


Unobservant

by yukiscorpio



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Perhaps that is because you are surrounded by unobservant nitwits — your words, not mine."</p><p>Qubine didn't deny that. "Unobservant, unimaginative, and wholly unprepared."</p><p>This is a story about learning, and unlearning. It starts from around the time Athlum gains independence and goes beyond the end of the game (changed ending).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I'm saying Athlum is now an independent state, no longer under the reign of Celapaleis."

Ever since Qubine's sudden announcement, David's life had become split between duties at the Congress and an unending amount of meetings with Celapaleis. There was so much to decide upon: citizenship, where to draw the border, trade agreements, extradition procedures, resource allocation, everything had to be set to the finest detail. And David revelled in it all. 

His people. His father. His father's father. Emma. This was for them.

There was perhaps no need for the lord to personally oversee every single point, but David wanted to be there for the whole process. And it was only thanks to his generals being here to look after Athlum, and Rush being here to look after him, that he was able to do this. Their support was essential in Athlum getting the best out of her separation from Celapaleis. As a matter of fact, without them, Athlum would never have achieved independence.

With so much to be thankful for, David had entered talks with Celapaleis expecting there to be a sting in the tail. But to his complete surprise, Qubine also took it upon himself to ensure a smooth transition, and he was pleasant to work with. Week after week, Athlum's ministers were astounded by the progress made and attributed it to David's negotiation skills, but David knew better — it was because Qubine saw the far greater picture. The man was seeing what the effects of the process right now would be in fifty, maybe even a hundred years' time. Every concession Celapaleis made now was with that in mind. His people might think he was too generous to let Athlum take so much, but with their economies so intricately linked, the two lands would prosper together in the future.

It made David think of Baroness Violet, who once tried to assassinate Qubine for what he and his father did to her family name, only to have her plot foiled and somehow twisted around, used by Qubine to honour the Gilles-Barres instead.

Perhaps, because of his small stature, most people forgot that Qubine had been at his position for over a decade and more importantly, that he cared about his land and was exceedingly good at his job. But David was constantly reminded of it. In the past he had not dared to voice these thoughts, but now that the tricky matter of national pride was less of a concern, he felt that he could be honest and say that he admired Qubine as a fellow ruler and held him in high regard.

On top of that, it turned out David just rather enjoyed Qubine's company in general.

Sometimes, when the advisors and secretaries had had enough, the two lords would stay behind and talk a little more. Dine together. Go through standard diplomatic hospitality. It was during these hours that David realised he had a taste for the ginger puddings from Celapaleis Castle's kitchens, and Qubine discovered that he enjoyed the evening song of a particular bird that only nested in Athlum.

David learned that Qubine, with enough borderline pleading, could do terribly good impressions of the lords and ladies from Congress.

David found out that Qubine was well-read and could discuss many topics at length when prompted, and did not seem to find this bothersome.

David saw that the man behind the child's eyes was intelligent, kind, and humorously cynical.

It was the day when David guffawed at a caught-in-the-rain, rather drenched Qubine, who responded by pulling off his cloak to wave it at David, flicking water onto him, that David realised he had found friendship in the man he used to serve. That perhaps this possibility of friendship had always been there, and they could have worked more closely all these years had their — well, their predecessors' — pride not been in the way.

Then again, the point was moot because had they done so, would Athlum have her independence now?

One evening, after hours spent talking about the custodianship of the Ivory Peaks and then the movement of the Conqueror's army, David and Qubine found themselves gossiping about the relationship between the heirs of the lords of Balterossa and Royotia, and David nearly choked at Qubine's impression of how he thought Bertrude di Balterossa might have reacted to the news.

"For a control-freak like Bertrude, this may be her worst nightmare. Some think to sire an heir is to secure the future, but in reality it is just introducing a totally unpredictable element into one's life."

A cold, harsh truth, David thought. "You don't give it any consideration yourself, then?"

Qubine gave the most incredulous look. "David," he said, gesturing at all four foot five inches of himself.

"Cases are rare but there have been very young fathers in history."

"I suppose. The Academy is very interested in knowing the possibilities of a case like mine, I'm sure. But I have no desire physically, and no desire to find out if I am capable." Qubine left his seat for the teapot and cups they had left elsewhere. "And even if I am capable, I would not wish to subject any woman to something like me. Fortunately bloodlines and other such ideas are now considered old-fashioned. When the time comes I can just appoint someone."

 _Something like me._ "And what of love?"

"Love?" At the occasional table, Qubine lifted the lid of the teapot to check inside, and cast David a quick glance. Then he poured tea for them both. "I am quite capable of that, you might be surprised to hear."

David was not surprised in the slightest, not after all these long talks and coming to know the man better. "Not so, but now my curiosity is piqued..."

Qubine returned with two cups of warm tea on matching saucers. If only his father could see this now, David thought. The Lord of Celapaleis pouring tea for the Lord of Athlum, the two of them treating each other as friends, as equals.

"Don't even try, David. At least not until you tell me about yourself and Rush Sykes."

Ha, that again. Everyone seemed to have got the same impression. "I would, if there was anything to tell."

"How disappointing; I had thought our friendship is beyond such dissimulation."

"Dissimulation it is not. Rush and I are very close, but our relationship is not romantic."

Qubine paused, the brim of the cup against his lip, his eyes widening. "Now I am surprised. Do forgive me for making assumptions. So you are actually unattached at the moment?"

"Yes. And not to worry, no offense was taken." David waved once, dismissive of the whole thing. He had been briefly interested in Rush, and had Rush reciprocated, perhaps there could have been something. But that felt like such a long time ago already. "Now that I've answered your question, how about you answer mine, hmm?"

"Well, this is hardly fair," said Qubine as if mildly annoyed, and David was about to back off, but then Qubine continued. "There were a few who caught my eye when I was younger, but I often lost interest quickly. And then there was someone a couple of years ago... I had them transferred."

Qubine had never acted on his feelings then. David didn't know what he was expecting, or what to say right now. Perhaps it would be best to keep things lighthearted. "Professional," he commented with a chuckle.

"Wasn't I just? Though, it was still more professional than being interested in my own staff."

"I do see the problem but then again, love is love wherever you find it, surely?"

"Is that so?"

The nonchalance in Qubine's tone worried David. "What would it take then?"

"To what? Secure my interest?"

"For you to take action."

Qubine dipped his head and snorted.

And that was it. There was no reply, not even a dismissal, as if the conversation never took place.

David wondered if he had offended Qubine, somehow.

* * *

* * *

* * *

"I'm saying Athlum is now an independent state, no longer under the reign of Celapaleis."

Qubine would not go so far as to say that he had a flair for the dramatics, but he did like to spring a surprise every now and then. Not that it was an entirely unexpected conclusion — at least not from Qubine's point of view. Long before Ghor started nudging him about it, he knew the risks Celapaleis was running. He just hadn't expected Athlum and her marquis to mature so suddenly, cumulating in that display of critical decision making and indisputable power at Koenigsdorf.

He had thought he could have David and Athlum for another five years at least, but such was life. Qubine would rather take an economic hit than have a civil war against a land and a man he enjoyed working with. Not that his doltish prime minister could understand, but that man was shortsighted whereas Qubine was anything but.

With a hopelessly useless group of ministers whom he could not sack for another six months making up his cabinet, Qubine saw no choice but to personally ensure that Athlum's independence was properly handled; Celapaleis would have Athlum as an ally, not an enemy whose position could have her cornered in the northwest.

Besides, he wanted this chance to work with David, who turned out to be as delightful as he had imagined. David was pushy when it came to Athlum's rights, of course, but he was sharp and knew when to hold his cards close and when to be brutally honest. Qubine had not enjoyed such company for a long time, to the extent that he began to look forward to seeing David every week, sometimes even twice a week if the Conqueror's actions merited discussion. In Athlum, after the work meeting ended and the rabble was dismissed, they would use a room where songbirds nested in a tree just outside one of the windows. In Celapaleis, whichever room they ended up talking in, Qubine would make sure the kitchens sent over some spiced teas and biscuits for David's sweettooth.

Qubine discovered that, given the right mood, David was easily amused and generous with his laughter, be it from Qubine's mediocre impressions of the Congress or seeing him arrive at their meeting sodden from the rain. That day, David actually had the audacity to cackle, then point blank refused to help Qubine hang up the wet cloak that bore his family emblem. "Your retinue can do that for you, I'm sure. Only they serve you now, not I."

Qubine realised that David had a thirst for knowledge, an eager ear, and was not afraid to share his thoughts which could be controversial but often inline with Qubine's own.

Qubine saw that the man a few years his junior but also well over a foot taller was even less different from him than he had presumed, that they enjoyed, loved, and aspired to many of the same things.

Although he had valued David since the start, the affinity between them came as a surprise to Qubine — he had initially thought that David would always loathe him, out of general principles if nothing else. It made him wonder if they could have been friends from much earlier on had his predecessors not antagonised the Nassaus so much in the past. Perhaps they could, and Athlum could have loved and prided herself as part of Celapaleis.

But the point was moot. Athlum had her independence, and Qubine found friendship from David.

In fact, Qubine wondered if he was starting to grow too fond.

One evening, after hours spent talking about the custodianship of the Ivory Peaks and then the movement of the Conqueror's army, Qubine found himself doing an impression of Duchess Bertrude of Balterossa just to see how David would react. They were talking about love affair between her daughter Lady Charlotte and Lord Paris of Royotia.

"For a control-freak like Bertrude, this may be her worst nightmare. Some think to sire an heir is to secure the future, but in reality it is just introducing a totally unpredictable element into your life." At least Qubine had control and could sack most of his useless government quite soon. When Charlotte and Paris made their public announcement Qubine nearly put money down on Bertrude storming down to Royotia and having Paris's guts for garters.

David's face was a little red from laughing. "You don't give it any consideration yourself, then?"

That was the most ridiculous thing Qubine had heard in a long time. He responded by pointing at himself. David seemed unfazed.

"Cases are rare but there have been very young fathers in history."

Either David was open minded or had a very specific bias. Hopefully the former. "I suppose. The Academy is very interested in knowing the possibilities of a case like mine, I am sure." This was something Qubine reevaluated once in a while, as a matter of duty, but his conclusion was always the same. "But I have no desire physically, and no desire to find out if I am capable. And even if I am capable, I would not wish to subject anyone to something like me. Fortunately bloodlines and other such ideas are now considered old-fashioned. When the time comes I can just appoint someone."

He moved away, busying himself with serving tea so that he didn't have to maintain eye contact. Talking about these things did not bother him — his body was the way it was — but he disliked being pitied, which was the default reaction everyone had to anything relating to his halted development. If David's attitude began to stray anywhere near that, Qubine wasn't sure if he would be able to hide his disappointment completely.

"And what of love?"

"Love?" Qubine cast David a quick glance before pouring tea for them both. Now, that was an angle nobody had approached from before. "I am quite capable of that, you might be surprised to hear."

"Not so, but now my curiosity is piqued..."

Qubine smirked. As if he would hand over such ammunition without first demanding information of his own, or that he would not take the chance to turn the focus around. "Don't even try, David. At least not until you tell me about yourself and Rush Sykes."

After putting down fresh cups of tea, Qubine took his seat again as David shrugged, unperturbed.

"I would, if there was anything to tell."

"How disappointing; I'd thought our friendship is beyond such dissimulation."

"Dissimulation it is not. Rush and I are very close, but our relationship is not romantic."

Qubine paused, and studied his friend. He had been quite certain about it, though Paris said he never got that vibe from those two. Looked like Paris was right and this was an unexciting end to a thread of nobility gossip.

"Now I am surprised. Do forgive me for making assumptions. So you are actually unattached at the moment?"

"Yes. And not to worry, no offense was taken." David waved dismissively. "Now that I've answered your question, how about you answer mine, hmm?"

"Well, this is hardly fair." He wasn't particularly keen to divulge the information to a man he felt a little too keen about and had just found out to be single, but unverified information had led to failed a diversion and Qubine only had himself to blame on this one. "There were a few who caught my eye when I was younger, but I often lost interest quickly. And then there was someone a couple of years ago... I had them transferred."

She was only meant to be in Celapaleis for a few months anyway, and hadn't enjoyed being there. He simply moved her on to her next destination sooner than planned. He wasn't so cruel as to just have someone removed for his own convenience.

But it seemed like David thought it was funny. "Professional."

Maybe David thought there was someone out there wondering what they did wrong to make the lord send them away for hard labour. "Wasn't I just? Though, it was still more professional than being interested in my own staff."

"I do see the problem but then again, love is love wherever you find it, surely?"

David made it sound so easy. "Is that so?"

"What would it take then?"

"To what? Secure my interest?"

"For you to take action."

Maybe David was teasing him. Well, that was what friends did, Qubine supposed. He would choose lighthearted mockery over pity any day.

So he laughed.

Taking actions on his feelings.

He wondered if David realised he just made a very good joke.


	2. Chapter 2

The Marquis of Athlum — his new title had not been decided yet — sat at the round table in the room which had been allocated for discussions relating to the independence. Leather folders were in neat stacks in front of him, important documents kept safe in jhana hide, and one by one David checked them to make sure everything was in order and that he knew it all by heart.

"I'll be taking off then. Please don't work too late, Lord David. Look after yourself."

He nodded at Emmy. "I will. Good night."

When the door shut, he slumped in his chair. It was a good thing that Emmy thought he was working, because he actually had not been able to concentrate enough to read two lines off a page. Rush noticed, though, and asked him if everything was all right during supper. David guessed his staring had been rather blatant.

It wasn't just Rush, he had been studying other attractive people too, thinking that perhaps it had been too long since he last spent the night with anyone and that was the source of his... restlessness, but no, he realised what he wanted wasn't to take someone to bed.

He should probably thank the gods for that, considering who it was that was causing him such distraction.

Since when had Qubine stolen his attention like this?

David did see it coming since weeks ago, and thought it was part of his professional admiration for the man. But as time went on, David began to crave his company and counted the days, the hours to their next meeting. And it certainly wasn't because Qubine had a tempting pout or a nice physique like Rush. That was not to say that Qubine was not beautiful — but on the outside he was a beautiful _child_ , which did not appeal to David at all. And yet...

_Ah, what are you going to do with yourself, David Nassau?_

Was it perverse? Only in the way that Qubine was the lord of Celapaleis, he thought. He didn't desire Qubine — he couldn't even contemplate pleasuring himself to the thoughts of the man — but he wanted to be with him.

Perverse, maybe, but not depraved.

After hearing that Qubine had chosen to stay away from romance, that he did not wish to "subject" anyone to "something like him", David had a sleepless night. What could it mean? That Qubine thought romance did not suit his life and was not worth his time? That he felt he could not be loved because of his physical appearance? That he was aware of David's feelings and was warning him off? Qubine was famous for his mind games, and David couldn't see why the man would reveal something so personal to him.

Unless he was overthinking things, and Qubine simply saw him as the friend who could be trusted?

The questions were still on his mind when they met again, this time in Athlum.

As soon as he stepped into the meeting room, Qubine took a long look at David, and slowly raised his eyebrows.

"You're looking grave. Has the Conqueror been in touch?"

There was once when Qubine remarked on how brutally honest David could be when the situation called for it. But the situation certainly was not calling for honesty right now.

"Thankfully no." David gave a light, helpless chuckle. "Though by the looks of things, it's only a matter of time."

"How I wish you to be wrong." Qubine took his seat, with only one adviser on either side. "Let us try to get our divorce settlement out of the way before the maniac dooms us all, shall we?"

Most of the items scheduled for this meeting were agreed upon and ready for a final draft by the end of the meeting. David stood, dismissed everyone, and rubbed his forehead heavily. His concentration was already frayed from worrying about the Conqueror's movements and how to behave in front of Qubine today, the long meeting just made it all a bit worse.

"I did say you looked grave, but are you truly feeling unwell?"

Qubine was still here? David thought he had been escorted to the reading room. "Ah, no..."

"Well, perhaps this might perk you up."

David lowered his hand just in time to see a ramekin being placed in front of him. He lifted the lid.

Ginger pudding?

"The kitchens got excited hearing that I was coming here, said you appreciated this more than anyone in the castle." The ramekin was followed by a spoon. "I shan't impose today. Feel better, David."

As if the kitchens would dare to suggest or request the lord to personally bring some pudding to the lord of another castle.

"Actually, I would be delighted if you could stay for dinner."

The pudding was saved until after dinner. Qubine tried to send his advisers home, and David offered to provide suitable transport for the Lord of Celapaleis later on, but they said they would find entertainment in town and return later.

David hoped they would enjoy themselves so much that they forget the time, but that was perhaps wishful thinking.

He could not believe how giddy he felt just because Qubine brought him some pudding. The strength of his feelings unsettled him.

This pudding was even more delicious than usual.

Instead of watching David eat, Qubine went to the windows, using a qsiti stepping stool so that he could reach the handles. After all this time, he had learned which windows were best for birdsong. "Well, I guess that is another major task completed. Just a few more, plus some signatures and seals, then our lands are entirely separate."

"This is so far an entirely amicable divorce. Thank you."

When the Independence was done and dusted, there would be little reason for them to meet like this again, David only just realised at this moment.

Maybe it was for the best.

"I think... I shall miss this."

David started, then smiled. "Athlum is but a stone's throw away. If you ever find yourself wishing for birdsong, we will always welcome you."

Qubine turned around, and there was a softness to his face that David had not seen before. "I mean our meetings. I do find it relaxing to be able to talk to my peers this way."

Had Qubine become aware of how David felt, and decided to toy with him? No, it couldn't be. Qubine was shrewd, yes, but never cruel.

"Well, that's a relief; I was worried that I might have offended you last week." David picked up a couple of chairs and took them to the open window, then fetched his half-eaten pudding as well.

"Offended?" Qubine asked, looking genuinely confused for a moment. "Whatever for?"

"For asking personal questions."

Qubine shrugged and took his seat. "Just perplexed by your interest; there is simply nothing to tell, as you've discovered."

"Curiosity has no explanation." David secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like he had spent days worrying over nothing. And he could even push things a bit. "And of course there is still much to tell — that person who had your attention, for example. They must've been quite special."

"She was. She still is, I'm sure. It was years ago, however, and my interest has long waned."

Ah, a woman then. "And yet you seem unwilling to reveal her identity."

"Aren't things more intriguing if a hint of mystery is retained? Of all the things you could have asked..." Qubine said, shaking his head. "Try something else."

David smoothed over his frown before it could surface. "You were worried that she would be troubled if she found out?"

"'Troubled' would be to put it lightly—"

"Forgive me, since I obviously don't understand your sufferance, but I still think you are more pessimistic than you need to be."

"The situation was complex, David. And that is kind of you to say, but reality is often not so kind."

The words made David's heart clench. "How can you be so sure if you haven't even given it a try?"

"Because I have the body of a ten-year-old?"

"There must be people who will love you for what you are."

"Of course. Lovers of children. Sick individuals whom I would not hesitate to kill with a caustic blast."

Whatever words David was preparing to try to convince his friend got stuck in his throat, and were swallowed back down. He didn't want to admit it but Qubine was right. It didn't seem to be worth the risk of having one's heart crushed and faith dashed.

In the brief silence that followed, Qubine shifted in his seat and adjusted his cloak. He must be getting cold. David got up to pull the windows in a little.

"I suppose..." he started, face heating up from both embarrassment by his wording earlier and annoyance at the unkind reality, "there is a danger."

"Unfortunately it is not a thing someone would just reveal to you if they were asked. Unlike, say, if you were interested in someone, you could just enquire if he also liked men and should receive an honest answer?"

"Haha, these days, yes. It doesn't make it any less nerve-wracking though." David leaned slightly to one side, against the armrest. "On that topic, how do you feel about men?"

"How do I feel?" Qubine actually laughed. "When I bound the Umbermarici, my gonads had not started producing those humours yet. I have no clue if I prefer men, women or fish!"

"Hopefully not fish, in any case." All of a sudden David wished he could remember what it physically felt like to be a ten-year-old, so that he could understand Qubine better.

"How does it matter? I shall never find out," said Qubine. "Enough about me. You just said that it is nerve-wracking for you to approach someone — I find that hard to believe."

David took a moment to finish the pudding and to think of a response. "It's true. I can lead thousands of men into battle and not break a sweat but when it comes to matters of the heart, I'm just a bumbling fool."

"How interesting. When was the last time you were a bumbling fool, then? Or are you a fool for someone right now?"

"Of all the things you could have asked." Oh, this was a terrible, terrible topic. "Try something else."

Qubine seemed amused that his own words were being used back at him. "The situation is complex?"

"To say the least."

"Not that I am any judge, but I am reliably and consistently informed that you are an attractive man in many ways. Whoever possesses your thoughts would surely feel the same about you."

Why did Qubine preface that by dismissing the validity of his own opinion?

And god, why was David blushing to such offhanded comment? "Ah... thank you. It's just that the situation... let's not discuss this."

"Well, I wish you luck with this fish."

This was quickly descending into the plot of a throwaway novel, David thought. "Anyway, there is no time to consider such things." He flicked his wrist. "What is the point in holding someone in my arms when I can't protect them from the Conqueror?"

Perhaps that was jumping onto a sobering topic too quickly, but he'd said it now. For a while Qubine was quiet, then he slid off his seat and went to close the windows properly.

"What are your personal feelings on the Conqueror?"

"Unromantic, that's for sure," David replied, brows knotting.

"Hmm." Qubine smirked, having picked up how cautious his friend had suddenly become. "The God Emperor has become a thoroughly malevolent man. At least I granted you the use of the Gae Bolg upon request. He, on the other hand, would not even let any of us defend ourselves." He began to pace, away from where they were sitting. "There is a much greater force at work that I cannot understand, but when lives become threatened — and they will — I have no intention of just sitting back and doing nothing."

Those were words of treason. David rose sharply from his chair, his mouth agape. Looking thoughtful, his hands clasped behind his back, Qubine carried on.

"When the time comes, I will not request your support — just that you turn a blind eye; you are at the gateway after all."

"That's... I..."

David had thought about this. He was thinking about this all the time. Who did he truly serve — the God Emperor, or his people? If the Conqueror was left to do as he pleased, it wouldn't matter if he was seen as a traitor or not, because the consequences to the world would be much worse.

Thanks to Athlum's history, her army was always ready for battle and none would think it odd if troops were seen making preparations. This was a card David was holding close to his chest, so that he would not be stopped even before the battle could begin.

He had no idea Qubine was preparing for the same thing, and could not believe that the man actually said it out loud.

"You honour me with your trust," finally he said, but the words only made Qubine pull a face.

"Would I have left Celapaleis's first line of defence in the hands of someone I did not trust for so many years? Of course I trust you," he said, then sighed, "even if you were planning things behind my back."

David did not need to check to know that his face had become quite red, and that drew a short laugh from Qubine, who stopped pacing.

"But I blame my predecessors for blighting our lands' relationship to begin with. We are letting all that go now, are we not?"

"Y-yes..." David went to his fellow lord. "And regarding the Conqueror... Athlum is also ready for action."

He could be mistaken but Qubine looked both relieved and melancholy. And after all these years, he had thought he had finally got used to seeing such adult expressions on such a young face, but apparently that was not true. Or maybe he felt so affected because of his feelings for the man. David wasn't sure. But he had to curl his hands into fists and remind himself a reassuring embrace would be out of line here.

"Ah, this is good. I have... agonised over this for a while."

"Likewise," David half-whispered, not quite knowing why he did so.

"I have not faced him myself, but the Conqueror is strong, isn't he? Ghor had described him to me."

"Just he alone is the strength of an army." David wasn't without strategy, but it would involve asking Irina or Marina to take part in battle and that was one conversation with the Sykes he was dreading. "He brushed me aside easily at Koenigsdorf."

"Then," Qubine took a deep breath, "I will be slain with a friend by my side, at least."

David quietly chuckled, uneasy. "Let's try to not let things come to that."

There was a nod, then they returned to their seats.

"With that as the predicament, David..."

"Yes?"

"Perhaps you should consider going fishing."

Fishing... oh, Qubine was returning to their previous topic. David didn't know if he wanted to drag his hands down his face, laugh, or sigh. How ironic. It wasn't even that Qubine was wrong — there was little left to lose.

"Perhaps. Perhaps you are right."

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

Qubine told the kitchen to make some ginger pudding the day before he was due to travel.

Gifts between friends were not odd, even if they were items of food that required careful transportation, so he wasn't too worried about it. He had no ulterior motive or intention, it was simply that he knew David liked the pudding. So why not?

If there was one thing he was worried about, it was that their previous conversation had become a little strange, and by the time David left he seemed less at ease than he usually was. But it had been a week and they should be fine now. And if not, he was armed with a ginger pudding.

The delight on David's face every time he ate this delighted Qubine.

He recalled last week, the delight he also felt when he found out David was single at the moment, and then the disappointment in himself for not quelling that feeling faster. He had spent all his life training himself to control his emotions by rationalising things to the death, and he knew that a man like David, who was healthy in both body and mind, would not be interested in him. With that in mind, whether or not David was available should make no difference to him at all.

And yet.

_Well, what is your strategy, Qubine of Celapaleis?_

He could not avoid David, of course, nor could he get the man transferred like he did Emmy. But that was fine, he was no lovesick, bumbling fool. His feelings would fade soon enough, if the Conqueror didn’t take his life before that. Grim thoughts to be sure, but he always preferred to be realistic. It wasn’t as if he was planning to die in vain; to fight meant taking a chance, to sit back was to accept being slaughtered.

He might be small, but he was no lamb. He must endeavour.

He needed to find a chance to talk to David about this. There was no way for the entire Celapaleian army to mobilise without Athlum becoming aware, but without the full force, he stood no chance against the Conqueror, this he knew well. He would not want, and could not afford to spend any divisions fighting Athlum just so that he could get pass.

But Qubine had nothing to bargain with. So he would just have to ask nicely. Or beg. There was also a chance that David’s thoughts were not dissimilar to his own. If this did not go well, however…

No, David would never hand him over to the God Emperor. David knew the difference between law and morality.

Even if he did get sent to the God Emperor, ultimately it made little difference. There were only two outcomes: victory or defeat. This was just another route towards defeat.

Ah, now he was again toying with the idea of a showdown against the God Emperor. The man who thought it was appropriate to make someone as young as ten bind a Core Remnant… and Ghor thought it would be a good idea to ask him to represent the Congress and speak to the God Emperor? Qubine was not proud of himself for passing such distasteful work to David, but it was good for David’s political standing and even better for Qubine’s own sanity.

He sighed. His thoughts were straying. This would not do. Especially not right now, in Athlum Castle, where a number of people had assembled for the talks, all waiting for him or David to say something.

Well, he would begin then. "You're looking grave. Has the Conqueror been in touch?"

"Thankfully no." David was indeed looking quite ailed. "Though by the looks of things, it's only a matter of time."

"How I wish you to be wrong." The words were heartfelt. "Let us try to get our divorce settlement out of the way before the maniac dooms us all, shall we?"

After the meeting, Qubine stayed behind, turning down the offer to be shown to another room. He had been here enough times to know his way around. David wasn’t looking so well, with one hand pressed on the table and the other rubbing his temples, as if nursing a headache.

Qubine had meant to bring up the subject of the God Emperor, but maybe today was not a good day to talk about committing treason.

"I did say you looked grave, but are you truly feeling unwell?"

"Ah, no..."

He retrieved the small pudding bowl from his bag, and a spoon too. "Well, perhaps this might perk you up." He watched as David discovered what it was, casting him a look of surprise, and he explained, "the kitchens got excited hearing that I was coming here, said you appreciated this more than anyone in the castle."

One moment. Why was he lying? He intended it as a gift, and wasn't supposed to be embarrassed about it.

He was not handling his emotions as well as he should, and David clearly was not feeling his best. He should leave. "I shan't impose today. Feel better, David."

He hadn't even picked up his bag before David spoke, and his mind was changed.

"Actually, I would be delighted if you could stay for dinner."

Dinner was a relaxing affair which Qubine ate alone with David, accompanied by a couple of musicians. It wasn't the sort of setting that allowed proper private conversations but on the other hand, it forced them to talk about light topics, anything that was not personal. Although normally Qubine would consider this as time he could have spent more productively, he rather enjoyed it.

After the meal, Qubine suggested that his advisers went home first, but they didn't seem to want to go. Then Rush Sykes, who had eaten with them, took it upon himself to show them Athlum at night, and so they were out of the way, hopefully for quite long, and the lords relocated to their usual room.

Fun as it might be, Qubine realised he should probably not start the night with him staring at David enjoying his pudding, so he went to where he knew he could please his ears rather than eyes, opening the windows at the far end of the room so that he could hear the birds,

"Well, I guess that is another major task completed. Just a few more, plus some signatures and seals, then our lands are entirely separate."

"This is so far an entirely amicable divorce. Thank you."

Soon there would be little excuse for them to meet like this again.

Maybe it was for the best.

"I think... I shall miss this."

The sentimental words were out of his lips before he realised, startling Qubine himself.

"Athlum is but a stone's throw away. If you ever find yourself wishing for birdsong, we will always welcome you."

It was a generous thing for David to say, but did Athlum really want to see her old sovereign lord more than absolutely necessary? "I mean our meetings," he said, then hastily added, "I do find it relaxing to be able to talk to my peers this way."

This earned him a smile, and David took some chairs to the window so that they could sit there instead.

"Well, that's a relief; I was worried that I might have offended you last week."

"Offended? Whatever for?"

"For asking personal questions."

That was why David looked tense? "Just perplexed by your interest; there is simply nothing to tell, as you've discovered."

It was strange for Qubine to talk his love life — or lack thereof — with David, but it truly didn't bother him much. Perhaps his brain lacked the chemicals to make him feel that way, like normal adults did.

"Curiosity has no explanation." They sat down. David picked up his pudding. "And of course there is still much to tell. That person who had your attention, for example. They must've been quite special."

Now, that. That Qubine did not wish to talk about in detail.

"She was. She still is, I'm sure. It was years ago, however, and my interest has long waned."

"And yet you seem unwilling to reveal her identity."

"Aren't things more intriguing if a hint of mystery is retained? Of all the things you could have asked..." Qubine said, shaking his head. "Try something else."

David tipped his head lightly to one side. "You were worried that she would be troubled if she found out?"

Oh yes, very much so. The Honeywells would not have taken that well. "'Troubled' would be to put it lightly—"

"Forgive me, since I obviously don't understand your sufferance, but I still think you are more pessimistic than you need to be."

This was not the first time Qubine wondered what David saw when he looked at him, because he sounded so genuine, as if he didn't see that Qubine was physically a child. "The situation was complex, David. And that is kind of you to say, but reality is often not so kind."

"How can you be so sure if you haven't even given it a try?"

"Because I have the body of a ten-year-old?"

"There must be people who will love you for what you are."

David was right. But there the problem lay. "Of course. Lovers of children. Sick individuals whom I would not hesitate to kill with a caustic blast."

Just the thought of those people was making Qubine shiver. Or maybe the night was getting chilly. He was about to get up to pull the windows in, but David got there before him.

"I suppose... there is a danger," said David, his face red.

"Unfortunately it is not a thing someone would just reveal to you if they were asked." Qubine hadn't meant to make his friend uncomfortable by mentioning child fiddlers. He should change the topic. "Unlike, say, if you were interested in someone, you could just enquire if he also liked men and should receive an honest answer?"

"Haha, these days, yes. It doesn't make it any less nerve-wracking though." David leaned slightly to one side, against the armrest. "On that topic, how do you feel about men?"

"How do I feel?" Qubine was sitting opposite to a man who was aesthetically as well as intellectually pleasing, whom he felt quite attracted to. But had he been an adult, who knew? The male form could do nothing for him at all. But he did understand that this wasn't an area anyone should have thought about. "When I bound the Umbermarici, my gonads had not started producing those humours yet. I have no clue if I prefer men, women or fish!"

"Hopefully not fish, in any case."

"How does it matter? I shall never find out." And that was the ultimate truth. "Enough about me. You just said that it is nerve-wracking for you to approach someone — I find that hard to believe."

Kind, smart, strong, pretty, and a major noble. Wasn't David one of the most eligible bachelors in the world?

"It's true. I can lead thousands of men into battle and not break a sweat but when it comes to matters of the heart, I'm just a bumbling fool."

"How interesting." How adorable! "When was the last time you were a bumbling fool, then? Or are you a fool for someone right now?"

The question made David look away. "Of all the things you could have asked. Try something else."

Right. David would not part with the information unless Qubine did so first, and Qubine certainly was not going to even breathe Emmy's name. "The situation is complex?"

"To say the least."

It was good to know that David did have his eye on someone. Now Qubine should have no problem training his mind to forget about those feelings.

"Not that I am any judge, but I am reliably and consistently informed that you are an attractive man in many ways. Whoever possesses your thoughts would surely feel the same about you."

"Ah... thank you. It's just that the situation... let's not discuss this."

David seemed so surprised by the compliment that he actually blushed. Was he not self-aware, did no one ever tell him these things? "Well, I wish you luck with this fish."

David shook his head. "Anyway, there is no time to consider such things." He flicked his wrist. "What is the point in holding someone in my arms when I can't protect them from the Conqueror?"

And suddenly they landed on the subject of the Conqueror. This Qubine meant to bring up anyway, but somehow he still lamented the loss of the banter. Depending on how this negotiation went, the loss might be permanent.

Just to be safe, he got up and closed the windows.

"What are your personal feelings on the Conqueror?"

"Unromantic, that's for sure," said David behind him.

If his friend was unwilling to share his view right away — which was fair enough — then Qubine would do it first.

"The God Emperor has become a thoroughly malevolent man. At least I granted you the use of the Gae Bolg upon request. He, on the other hand, would not even let any of us defend ourselves." He began to pace, away from where they were sitting. "There is a much greater force at work that I cannot understand, but when lives become threatened — and they will — I have no intention of just sitting back and doing nothing."

He waited to see what David's initial response would be, but apart from standing from his seat, David gave no reaction except shock. There was nothing Qubine could glean from.

"When the time comes, I will not request your support — just that you turn a blind eye; you are at the gateway after all."

This was it. The words that could make everything fall apart right now.

"That's... I..."

David would stand by him. This man, who bound the Gae Bolg knowing what it could do to his life, who led the charge to storm the Koenigsdorf fortresses, who would surely grieve for his fallen general for years to come — this man would stand by Qubine.

Qubine needed David, and Celapaleis needed Athlum, now, more than ever.

"You honour me with your trust," was all David said.

What a ridiculously pointless remark. "Would I have left Celapaleis's first line of defence in the hands of someone I did not trust for so many years? Of course I trust you." What else did David think? "Even if you were planning things behind my back."

That was something not brought up between them before. In fact Qubine wasn't sure if David was aware that he knew about the very solid plans to break Athlum away from Celapaleis. Once again David's face became flushed, so Qubine hurried to make light of the matter.

"But I blame my predecessors for blighting our lands' relationship to begin with. We are letting all that go now, are we not?"

"Y-yes..." David went to him, going right up to the edge of his personal space. "And regarding the Conqueror... Athlum is also ready for action."

Oh...

Oh, thank you.

He was right about David.

Words could not adequately describe his relief, or his admiration for David this moment. Given their families' histories, one could expect a Nassau to use this chance to end the Qubines once and for all, and he would not even have to dirty his hands to do it. But at this most vulnerable moment, David chose to support Qubine instead.

After a minute, Qubine realised he ought to speak.

"Ah, this is good. I have... agonised over this for a while."

"Likewise."

"I have not faced him myself, but the Conqueror is strong, isn't he? Ghor had described him to me."

"Just he alone is the strength of an army. He brushed me aside easily at Koenigsdorf."

It was just as Ghor said, then. Such overwhelming strength, to take the life of an Athlumian general and brush aside the lord known for his battle prowess. Qubine's skills in mystic arts was not to be sniffed at, though — he would confidently claim that no one could best him in the northwest — and he hoped to do some very serious damage before breathing his last.

"Then," Qubine drew a deep breath, trying to quell the fear, "I will be slain with a friend by my side, at the very least."

David quietly chuckled. "Let's try to not let things come to that," he whispered.

That was a good idea.

They returned to their seats, Qubine suddenly quite aware that although he had achieved one objective today, he had completely failed the other — his feelings for David were only growing stronger.

"With that as the predicament, David..."

"Yes?"

"Perhaps you should consider going fishing."

If David had a significant other, though, then Qubine could stop dreaming.

"Perhaps. Perhaps you are right."

Of course. Qubine was always right.


	3. Chapter 3

Qubine looked up at him, then there was a crack in his usually perfect expression of indifference, and as soon as David smirked, Qubine lost the struggle and laughed, heartily and gracelessly.

"Still a waste of time, but a glorious waste of time, fine," he said, taking the pamphlet from the trembling hands of a young staff member. _The Betrayal of Vonn d’Herouet_ was a comedy based on the real story of the baron who built Robelia Castle three centuries ago, and was murdered by one of his vassals.

A splendid choice of entertainment, David would say, casting his mind back to a week ago when he and Qubine talked about their plans to fight the Conqueror, thus risking being betrayed by each other. And, well, there was also the small item which Qubine pointed out, that David had been planning to achieve independence by force...

The thought of it, now, wasn't as much mortifying as it was awkward. David had not planned to actually go to war with Celapaleis — just the threat of it should have been enough, as long as he had enough power and backing. Qubine was a proud man, but not so much that he would fight a battle he was sure to lose.

Anyway. That didn't matter now. It was said that the best way to unite adversaries was for a common enemy to appear, which they now had. And maybe Qubine had never been his adversary to begin with, not when the man had had Athlum's independence on the cards for years and was just waiting for the right time, according to his chief of staff Lameia.

"And I wondered why my schedule was cleared for two days."

That was Lameia's doing too, after David asked her if it would all right for him to borrow her lord for a little. "By the time this finishes it will be a bit too late to travel back. We have a suite prepared for you."

They were shown to their special box seats. Qubine sat down, then stood again, putting his cushion down and gesturing for David's too.

"What is the occasion, then?" Sitting atop two cushions, Qubine could now see comfortably over the railing. He gave a sidelong glance when David moved his chair closer, but didn't comment.

"It's a great play. And it was your birthday a few days ago, wasn't it? I heard that you worked through it."

"That is what I do every year," said Qubine. "I do not celebrate birthdays; I find no point in doing so."

This was pointless to him, then?

Well, now David felt like an idiot.

"I see. But I hope the play will still be worth your time."

There was a moment of silence, and then Qubine turned towards him. "David I— ah, forgive me and my poor phrasing. I appreciate your efforts and am enjoying the evening though it has barely begun. My position on birthday celebration is simply that..." he looked down, breaking eye contact, and there was a pause, "they add insult to injury."

For a few moments, David didn't respond. Qubine just...

He had always been so pragmatic about his situation, even when it affected his romantic prospects, acting as if it was not a problem the rest of the world thought it was. But just now, he let David hear the truth.

And that truth was... what should be word? Painful? Devastating? Unfair?

"In that case, let this be a celebration of..." David searched his head. There were many things worth celebrating, but was it necessary to give everything a reason? "Forget that. I'd like us to watch them mock Vonn d’Herouet. That is enough?"

"That sounds marvellous." Qubine sat back, relaxing into his chair, and the smile was back. "Now, who do I have to kill around here to get some tea?"

Beverages were served just before the stalls below filled up and the lights went out. The play was one David had seen before and would not mind enjoying again. Anyway, he was perfectly capable of doing two things at once, so he could spare some attention to think about what just transpired.

He had think harder from Qubine's point of view. Literally — next time he would make sure to arrange for higher seats — as well as in other ways, things that David himself always took for granted. Of course Qubine would not feel inclined to celebrate his birthday, that would have been obvious had David just given it a little bit of thought.

The fact that Qubine liked him enough to lower the mask and explain, though...

The play was a riot. By the end half the audience was hiccupping from laughing too hard, and the other half struggling to sit up. Beside him, Qubine's face was flushed pink and he had a hand clamped over his mouth in a bid to maintain some level of grace.

The actors were back on stage doing their bows. David grasped Qubine's hand and gave it a light tug. "Let's go before the crowd starts."

There was no resistance, just a pause of total surprise, then Qubine got up and followed David out, boarding a coach that was waiting for them nearby.

"I hope you enjoyed that."

"You have made a big mistake. I am going to invite this troupe to perform in Celapaleis and Athlum will never see them again."

"Ha! At our next meeting I shall be sure to put down a clause that you cannot steal our artists!"

"'Steal'? I mean nothing of the sort. Stealing is what your miners are doing at the Gaslin Caves."

David narrowed his eyes, frowning with great drama. "Those are fighting words, Lord Qubine."

"Oh my, I have not realised. Here, please accept Robelia Castle as an apology. Pay no attention to the crumbling walls, it is a lovely building. And at night you can hear Vonn d’Herouet screaming 'finest and unique pest toxins'!"

The theatre turned out to be an even better idea than David had envisaged. And Qubine had not yet remarked on the fact that David had taken his hand earlier. Perhaps he thought it was a friendly gesture. David would have to make sure that he knew it was not, hopefully before he died from his heart beating its way out of his chest.

It was nerves, of course, but also the fact that being with Qubine, watching him laugh, gave David such joy. It was love, for everything that the man was, and even everything that he could never be. David was head over heels for someone with a sense of humour as dry as the Great Sand Sea, and a heart larger than the Valeria Heart, hidden inside a tiny body, disguised under layers of pragmatism and cynicism.

What insanity. And yet, the world itself had already gone mad. At a time like this, when a living Remnant might be seizing all other Remnants for himself, when trying to survive could mean being branded a traitor, when fear and worry were etched deep on the faces of the people, genuine felicity had all but vanished. If there was a chance of happiness, should it matter the form in which that happiness took?

He could only hope that Qubine felt the same way about him.

"So are you going to reveal where we are headed next?" asked Qubine, taking a peek out the curtain.

"It depends. We only had a light supper, so we could go to the night bazaar if you feel peckish and fancy a change of scenery. We could go elsewhere too — Athlum has much to offer even this time of night. Or we can head back if you would rather rest."

"Funny enough, I know what Athlum has to offer — it used to be mine, after all." Qubine let the curtain fall back, and when he turned around, his face was completely deadpan. "As this is supposed to be in celebration of my birthday, however, are you not meant to surprise me?"

In just one sentence, Qubine handed the decision over to David, referred to an earlier conversation and expressed forgiveness, as well as showed that maybe David was changing his mind about things. David felt so charmed he could keel over right now.

"Why am I not surprised that you are making a request to be surprised?"

"You have spent too much time with me — alas for you."

David snorted, then turned around and slid open a little window that was behind him, speaking a few quick words to the driver. Then he saw that Qubine was looking outside again.

"I claim that I know Athlum, but it is indeed bustling. And do you often go out unaccompanied?"

"It is safe in the urban areas — to be frank, is there anyone who can pose a challenge to the two of us together?" said David. "As for Athlum... it is an act of despair, I believe. The loss of the Valeria Heart..." It still hurt to talk about this. Perhaps it always would. "...hit the people hard. That, and the fear of what might come, is part of the reason behind what you see."

"Live hard, since we are all going to die anyway?"

"So to speak."

"Wrong. Fear is only a minor factor," said Qubine, sitting back. "But figure it out for yourself; it is your country now, you would not want any handholding from me."

The choice of words took David aback — 'you would not want any handholding' — he wasn't hinting at something, was he? Not in a statement that was otherwise so blunt.

And, David was trying to find a way to broach this anyway...

_Do it. Do it, David Nassau. The worst that can happen is that he just brushes it off._

"But I do want it." He reached across the small space between them, taking Qubine's hand.

His friend went rigid, except a successful lord and politician was always able suppress such a reaction to the minimum. In slow motion he looked down, studying their joined hands.

"This is the second time you have held my hand tonight," he said, voice calm. "What are you doing?"

David swallowed discreetly. "Fishing."

Qubine's fingers twitched. There was a lengthy silence as he evaluated the situation.

"For minnows?"

"Not for minnows in general." David tried not to cringe. "Just this particular one."

"And what do you intend to do with it? Devour it? A fish this small can give you no pleasure. And as a pet it is not much to look at."

Qubine had not stated his own feelings at all. What did that mean? "I intend to do neither," said David. He could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. "You can easily have me beaten when it comes to wits, so I shall ditch the analogy now, before—"

"You are supposed to put them back if you caught them too small. Tiny fish are sometimes used as baits for the next bigger catch. Also—"

"That is exactly why I must drop the analogy." David snorted softly, and was relieved to see an amused curl of the lips in return. Whatever the outcome here, at least Qubine didn't seem too annoyed with him. "I... for some time now I have admired you but... in recent weeks I've realised my feelings are romantic. This may not be a wise move on my part but your words last week about our future predicament and... you've expressed your views on relationships before but still I... see, I wasn't joking when I said I become an incoherent mess when it comes to matters of the heart."

In contrast to David's growing anxiousness, Qubine looked placid, unruffled, as if this was just an everyday situation, though his words were clearly considered.

"Yes, I did encourage you to do something about the person who was occupying your thoughts."

"That person is you."

"I had not a clue that this was the case."

"Now that you do know, I hope that you don't regret having encouraged me."

It took a few moments before Qubine spoke again. "I need time to think. Can we head back?"

"Of course." David's hands let go.

Half an hour of heavy silence later, they were back in the castle. Qubine dismissed the offer to be shown to the guest suite, gesturing for David to walk with him.

They strolled for a little while, down long corridors, passing little courtyards, then Qubine spoke.

"This has been a lovely evening, thank you. Your thoughts are much appreciated; you have made me think that maybe I could be less indifferent towards birthdays."

David hoped that wasn't a consolation prize of sorts. "My pleasure."

A pause.

"It is quiet here at night."

"I suppose we value our rest more than the citizens do."

They turned a corner, stepping through an archway, arriving in the small garden in the south side of the castle. But instead of approaching the fountain in the middle, Qubine stopped under the pergola. David chose to stand several feet further in.

"I am aware that it is odd to mention this now, but I once had a conversation with your father here around six years ago."

David raised his brows. This was not the usual place for the lords to discuss their lands. "Here?"

"Yes."

"What did you talk about?"

Qubine did a very small shrug. It didn't seem like he wanted to reveal the details. "Various things."

Six years ago. That would be the year his father died. Qubine would have been in his late teens, and already having ruled Celapaleis for longer than David had ruled Athlum now. It had to have been an important conversation.

"So why are you bringing it up now?"

"He asked me to take care of you, that is all." There was a hint of a smile on Qubine's face. "I am certain he did not mean 'court my son'."

Qubine was trying to be respectful and not look too amused, but David didn't care at all and let out a short laugh. "So many things he could not have predicted."

"I could not have predicted this either. When I requested a surprise earlier, you certainly went the extra mile."

"Ah... I always try not to disappoint." David tried to wipe the unease from his smile. Where was the calm collectedness he had always prided himself in?

A long pause, then Qubine walked up to David. His cheeks coloured slightly, making his face almost doll-like, then his gaze averted, as if he was searching for his words. David didn't notice any blushing before, but it was quite dark in the coach, whereas the garden was well-lit.

"Tell me, David: have you lost your mind?"

What should David say? "Does it seem that way to you?"

"Need I list the reasons?"

No, that wasn't necessary. And Qubine was right to be concerned. "If my words trouble you, then disregard them. The last thing I want is to cause you distress. I still wish to be your friend, whatever your response."

Qubine frowned, then stepped into David's personal space with deliberation, and looked up.

"I barely reach your chest. You could find someone who would give you much more joy."

"It is not passion that I seek. In what or whom I find joy is for me to decide." Again, the reference to his physical condition. "Not to be impolite, but I cannot care less about your appearance. I wish to know what your heart says, if I may."

Qubine spent a moment to digest that. He took a small step back so that he didn't have to strain his neck to look up. "My heart tells me you are being foolish, and you would realise that soon enough."

"I... see..."

This was fine. David could take a rejection, however disappointing it was. At least it looked like Qubine was not annoyed or offended by the whole thing and was handling it in a mature manner. Perhaps they could remain as friends.

"I have not finished speaking," said Qubine, still looking composed, as if he was merely talking about the weather. "I think this is foolish, and we both know what the concerns are. That being said, I admit I have come to look forward to our chats, and lament their eventual loss. Of late you have occupied my thoughts far more often than is reasonable, and your words in the coach delighted me."

It was David's turn to be totally surprised.

Was that a long-winded version of "I think I like you too"?

He had no idea at all that Qubine felt this way about him.

Had this been someone else, David would have pulled him into his arms, or at least kissed his cheek right now. But this was Qubine and there were things David still had to find out, mostly to do with boundaries, so he tried to stay quite still instead. "I... I don't know what outcome I had been expecting but this is better than anything I could have expected."

"Whereas I had started preparing myself for the day you introduce... never mind. It matters not now, I think I have spoken quite enough."

Qubine...

"Then... perhaps we could find joy in each other as companions?"

"I suppose that can be arranged."

Yes! Yes yes yes!

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

The coach pulled up, bringing to an end their part political, part gossipy chat on the star-crossed lovers of the south continent. Never mind. Qubine had yet to perfect his impression of Paris anyway.

The driver opened the door and lowered the steps for his passengers. Qubine looked up, noting that they were in a side alley and a door was opened and waiting at the building to their right. Nothing too unusual; he was used to going in through side entrances when he wanted some privacy or just so that he didn't cause a fuss and inconvenience others.

David would not reveal their destination whilst on the coach, and from the outside it was impossible to tell where they were, but once inside the decor and layout told Qubine what kind of place this was.

"Hmm." He was about to say that it might be inappropriate for lords to be seen enjoying entertainment at a playhouse at a time of crisis, but on second thought, perhaps this was exactly what was needed: an impression that business was as usual. "A play? Or is this a musical? You think this is a choice way to spend the evening?"

There was no verbal reply, but David's mischievous face seemed to be saying that Qubine should withhold judgement for now. It wasn't as if Qubine was going to complain, as getting to spend the night with David was an unexpectedly good thing, much the same as winning a prize draw one didn't know one had entered. He did think Lameia had an odd look about her earlier today; it appeared that she had been colluding with David.

Just before they entered the box, a boy handed tonight's programme to Qubine: _The Betrayal of Vonn d’Herouet_. Ah, now it all made sense. He had, in a past conversation, mentioned that he enjoyed the arts, a passion which he had not had the time to indulge in lately. And what a choice of play. He had studied about Baron Vonn d'Herouet out of interest, chiefly using him as a counter-example on how not to rule. There was of course the theme of betrayal too, so very relevant to their lives right now.

"Still a waste of time, but a glorious waste of time, fine," he said, unable to suppress his chuckles, out of both amusement and appreciation. "And I wondered why my schedule was cleared for two days."

"By the time this finishes it will be a bit too late to travel back. We have a suite prepared for you."

So he was staying overnight then. Qubine made a mental note to, discreetly, check just what his chief of staff knew. He had not mentioned his feelings for David to anyone, but one could not be too careful.

They sat down, and Qubine had the same old problem, that he could only just about see the stage. As he bolstered his seat, David moved his closer, perhaps to make it easier to converse with lowered voices.

"What is the occasion, then?" Sitting atop two cushions, Qubine could now see comfortably over the barrier. 

"It's a great play. And it was your birthday a few days ago, wasn't it? I heard that you worked through it."

Ah, that. "That is what I do every year," said Qubine. "I do not celebrate birthdays; I find no point in doing so."

He thought of it as explaining a fact, but even before the sentence was finished he knew he had made a mistake. How careless, he must be relaxing far too much around David.

"I see. But I hope the play will still be worth your time."

Qubine did not wish to upset David at all. "David I— ah, forgive me and my poor phrasing. I appreciate your efforts and am enjoying the evening though it has barely begun. My position on birthday celebration is simply that... they add insult to injury."

He looked away in discomfort, choosing to watch the stalls fill up below them. Not that he thought David would use the knowledge maliciously, but as someone who was made a lord aged ten and would stay looking that age forever, he had learned early on in his rule to never show weakness if he didn't want to be devoured. Breaking the habit of a lifetime was not easy.

But of course David would know how to rescue a conversation and put Qubine at ease. "In that case, let this be a celebration of... Forget that. I'd like us to watch them mock Vonn d’Herouet. That is enough?"

If only David could stop being so charming, Qubine's life would be simpler. But he was still sure he could cope. One day, he knew, he would be meeting someone introduced as David's significant other.

No point in thinking about that right now. He had a play to enjoy.

It was quite an excellent performance. Liberties were taken, Qubine noted, and an event which he considered key was too briefly shown in his opinion, but it suited the style of the comedy and Qubine liked it for what it was.

And good grief, he had not laughed so hard in years. Maybe ever. He was quite sure he wasn't even laughing anymore, just wheezing pathetically. Then all of a sudden David took his hand.

"Let's go before the crowd starts."

They made their way out, Qubine quietly uncertain if he was out of breath from all the cackling or from the physical contact he was unaccustomed to.

Back on the coach, he straightened his clothes and checked his hair, making sure that he remained presentable despite the hurry just now. Little mundane tasks like these also helped him calm down, although his brain was determined to remind him that David had very warm hands.

"I hope you enjoyed that."

The handholding? Qubine couldn't say if he did. But of course David was referring to the play. "You have made a big mistake. I am going to invite this troupe to perform in Celapaleis and Athlum will never see them again."

David snorted, and Qubine thought he could see a glint in those grey eyes despite the darkness. "Ha! At our next meeting I shall be sure to put down a clause that you cannot steal our artists!"

"'Steal'? I mean nothing of the sort. Stealing is what your miners are doing at the Gaslin Caves."

A face was pulled. "Those are fighting words, Lord Qubine."

"Oh my, I have not realised. Here, please accept Robelia Castle as an apology. Pay no attention to the crumbling walls, it is a lovely building. And at night you can hear Vonn d’Herouet screaming 'finest and unique pest toxins'!"

Ah, now Qubine wanted to revisit some of the texts he had read on Vonn d’Herouet. He wondered if David knew that he had a particular interest in this subject and took him to the play because of it. Most probably, as this was meant to be in celebration of his birthday.

Another year gone. To be truthful, not acknowledging his birthday hardly meant he wasn't aware of the passage of time; after all, he was the one who formally appointed David, aged fourteen, as the new Marquis of Athlum after the death of his father. And now David was a fully-grown — and very captivating — man.

To some, the years had perhaps flown by. But to Qubine, the passage of time had been marked by cycles of coming to terms with himself, followed by coming to terms with the fact that he could never truly come to terms with himself. And to celebrate that? "Adding insult to injury" was the only way he could have described it.

But he appreciated that David couldn't possibly know how he felt, since he never talked about it. He didn't mind that these things were overlooked — he was grateful, even, when David forgot that he wasn't even five feet tall, when David wanted to do something for his birthday because he was just the same as everyone else. The one downside of this, of course, was that it made it all the harder for Qubine to detach his feelings from the man.

He could never hope that David felt the same way about him, but he could, perhaps, try to not see birthday celebration as an insult. "So are you going to reveal where we are headed next?" he asked, taking a peek out the curtain.

"It depends. We only had a light supper, so we could go to the night bazaar if you feel peckish and fancy a change of scenery. We could go elsewhere too — Athlum has much to offer even this time of night. Or we can head back if you would rather rest."

"Funny enough, I know what Athlum has to offer — it used to be mine, after all," Qubine said casually. "As this is supposed to be in celebration of my birthday, however, are you not meant to surprise me?"

It was a good idea to bring up the birthday issue — David's smile was so wide he was almost grinning. "Why am I not surprised that you are making a request to be surprised?"

"You have spent too much time with me — alas for you."

David snorted, then turned around and slid open a little window that was behind him, spoke a few words to the driver, and the coach began to roll forward. Qubine took the time to peek outside again. Athlum, put simply, looked great. He didn't regret giving it away though, since his hands were full just with Celapaleis alone and he wasn't a megalomaniac like Wilfred Hermeien was.

"I claim that I know Athlum, but it is indeed bustling. And do you often go out unaccompanied?"

"It is safe in the urban areas — to be frank, is there anyone who can pose a challenge to the two of us together?" said David, and Qubine didn't disagree. It was just hard for Qubine to be anywhere without at least one person following behind, usually. "As for Athlum... it is an act of despair, I believe. The loss of the Valeria Heart hit the people hard. That, and the fear of what might come, is part of the reason behind what you see."

That was one angle to look at it from, but it seemed like the Lord of Athlum was unaware of his own success. "Live hard, since we are all going to die anyway?"

"So to speak."

"Wrong. Fear is only a minor factor." What Qubine could see on the faces was not despair, but defiance. At a time when the people were expected to cower in fear, they chose to carry on and laugh in the face of danger. And actually Qubine could proudly claim that it was the same in Celapaleis. "But figure it out for yourself; it is your country now, you would not want any handholding from me."

Good word choice? Poor word choice? Surely it didn't matter, David only took his hand earlier because they had—

"But I do want it."

—to hurry back... to the... coach...

Why had David taken his hand again?

He lowered his gaze. Both of David's hands were clasped gently over his right. The gesture was clearly intentional, and he understood that normally the intent would be romantic, but of course that could not be David's reason.

"This is the second time you have held my hand tonight," Qubine said. If he could not decipher what was going on, the only way to find out was to ask. "What are you doing?"

There was a slight tremor to David's voice. "Fishing."

Oh.

Fishing as in... what they talked about last week.

But... him? This could not be true. What was David's game?

"For minnows?"

"Not for minnows in general." David seemed hurt by the suggestion. "Just this particular one."

"And what do you intend to do with it? Devour it? A fish this small can give you no pleasure. And as a pet it is not much to look at."

Qubine didn't think David wanted to take Celapaleis, and he had already made it clear in the past that he was not and never would be interested in sex.

But David liked him despite that?

"I intend to do neither. You can easily have me beaten when it comes to wits, so I shall ditch the analogy now, before—"

It was more a joke than an analogy to begin with, and quite uncouth, but Qubine could not resist.

"You are supposed to put them back if you caught them too small. Tiny fish are sometimes used as bait for the next bigger catch. Also—"

A soft snort. "That is exactly why I must drop the analogy. I... for some time now I have admired you but... in recent weeks I've realised my feelings are romantic. This may not be a wise move on my part but your words last week about our future predicament and... you've expressed your views on relationships before but still I... see, I wasn't joking when I said I become an incoherent mess when it comes to matters of the heart."

No, that was entirely coherent, sincere, and sweet.

Goodness, the tips of Qubine's fingers were resting on David's wrist and he could feel the frantic pulse. Could David feel his? Because his heart was racing too.

David liked him. He just laid bare his feelings, but did not make any demand or request in return.

"Yes, I did encourage you to do something about the person who was occupying your thoughts."

"That person is you."

That person was him.

"I had not a clue that this was the case."

"Now that you do know, I hope that you don't regret having encouraged me."

Of course not. Not when this was the outcome.

Or did he? Could they truly step into a relationship given their political positions and Qubine's physical limitations?

It took a few moments before Qubine spoke again. "I need time to think. Can we head back?"

"Of course." David let go, turning around to tell the coachman to change course. Not used to being touched, even though it was just his hand, Qubine now breathed more easily.

His heart, however, thumped hard in his chest still.

To be "with" David — what did that mean? On the surface it seemed like it would be no different from their current friendship, but that was not true at all. He would be allowed to accept his own affection for David, in a way he had never been able to do so for anyone before, not even himself. He may even be able to display this affection without being met with repulsion from the other side.

But how about Celapaleis? So far the people had been tolerant of the fraternisation, although there was not an insignificant amount of discontent over the loss of Athlum. If they became an item and this became known, it would be easy and entirely reasonable for anyone to assume that Athlum's independence was granted due to impaired judgement at best, or solicited through questionable means at worst.

David must have considered this already. But how did Qubine feel about it?

Ghor was the one who talked about David's actions at Koenigsdorf and brought up Athlum's status at their last meeting, persuading Qubine to review the situation once more. This was on official record. And if the people would not believe that... did Qubine even care?

Had he not given, and given up, enough for Celapaleis already?

Of course that should never be the question. If he allowed himself to think like that, then he would have many years of bitterness to look forward to.

And so would denying himself and David this chance now.

Stealing a glance at David, Qubine found himself being studied with an worried gaze. They exchanged a quick smile and each turned towards a window again.

Half an hour of heavy silence later, they were back in the castle. Qubine dismissed the offer to be shown to the guest suite, gesturing for David to walk with him.

They strolled for a little while, down long corridors, passing little courtyards. Qubine stuck to the small parts of the main keep he knew his way around; it would be embarrassing to lose his directions right now.

He should say something to break the silence.

"This has been a lovely evening, thank you. Your thoughts are much appreciated; you have made me think that maybe I could be less indifferent towards birthdays." 

"My pleasure."

A pause.

"It is quiet here at night."

"I suppose we value our rest more than the citizens do."

They turned a corner, stepping through an archway, arriving in the small garden in the south side of the castle. But instead of approaching the fountain in the middle, Qubine stopped under the pergola. David chose to stand several feet further in.

_"Lord Qubine, I will be frank — you understand better than anyone the toil of binding a Core Remnant at a young age."_

How odd it was to remember that now.

"I am aware that it is odd to mention this now, but I once had a conversation with your father here around six years ago."

David raised his brows. "Here?"

"Yes."

"What did you talk about?"

_"I know I haven't much time. Please, don't make my son bind the Kellendros after I'm gone. Don't make David suffer."_

Qubine shrugged. "Various things."

_"This is not possible."_

_"I beg of you! David cannot—"_

_"And I beg of you, do not ask this of me. You know very well that I have no control over this matter. But I will send a formal request to the God Emperor."_

_"Thank you..."_

_"While we are on this topic, something I should have said years ago when I took power: I apologise on my mother's behalf for her overuse of your Remnant. Having great power is not a mandate to use it, I make no excuses for her."_

_"Not a mandate, indeed... For a long time I had been convinced I would never see David hit teenage. You changed that, and you have my thanks."_

_"I will do the same for him and continue to heavily restrict the use of the Gae Bolg. His tiny child's arm cannot handle so much power anyway."_

_"Hahaha..."_

"So why are you bringing it up now?"

"He asked me to take care of you, that is all." Qubine couldn't help but smile. "I am certain he did not mean 'court my son'."

David shook his head, amused. "So many things he could not have predicted."

"I could not have predicted this either. When I requested a surprise earlier, you certainly went the extra mile."

"Ah... I always try not to disappoint."

It was just a throwaway response, but there was more truth in those words than David was probably aware of himself. But Qubine didn't bring them here to sing David's praises, and they should get talking, for the sake of their sanities.

Abandoning his spot, Qubine approached David, feeling his heartbeat speed up again with each step. He knew what it was that he wanted, but he must know something first.

"Tell me, David: have you lost your mind?"

"Does it seem that way to you?"

"Need I list the reasons?"

"If my words trouble you, then disregard them. The last thing I want is to cause you distress. I still wish to be your friend, whatever your response."

That was cloying, but comforting too, and necessary. Had David got him completely figured out, Qubine wondered, or was this just how he was?

He nudged closer, now standing directly in front of David. If he was the height of a normal mitra his age, he would be able to feel David's breath.

"I barely reach your chest. You could find someone who would give you much more joy."

David did not seem bothered by the words. It looked as though he was glad to address the concern, even.

"It is not passion that I seek. In what or whom I find joy is for me to decide. Not to be impolite, but I cannot care less about your appearance. I wish to know what your heart says, if I may."

Qubine felt his heart moved, just a little more.

He stepped back so that he could look at David more easily.

How dare David do this to him, steal his attention and then negate all the things that were his biggest concerns.

Oh, Celapaleis? Celapaleis would just have to deal with it. They would need to fight the Conqueror, perhaps quite soon. If they died, then this would not matter. He would start worrying about it only if they survived. And there was a reason why he was known for his skill in manipulating public opinion.

But first, a little payback to David for suddenly sweeping him off his feet this way.

"My heart tells me you are being foolish, and you would realise that soon enough."

Oh, no, that was a mistake.

"I... see..."

David lowered his gaze, looked to the side and smiled amicably, nodding to himself. He looked devastated. Perhaps not to the untrained eye, but Qubine had known him for many years. What was he thinking? David chose to take a huge gamble, this was worth respect, and his feelings should not be toyed with.

"I have not finished speaking," Qubine added, hoping that he didn't sound too hasty. David's eyes were back on him, shining with a sliver of hope. "I think this is foolish, and we both know what the concerns are. That being said, I admit I have come to look forward to our chats, and lament their eventual loss. Of late you have occupied my thoughts far more often than is reasonable, and your words in the coach delighted me."

Now perhaps Qubine had said too much. But, instead of waves of vulnerability for revealing too much, all he felt was relief, and then euphoria, because his words had made David smile in a way he had never seen him smile before.

"I... I don't know what outcome I had been expecting but this is better than anything I could have expected."

"Whereas I had started preparing myself for the day you introduce..." Qubine's voice drifted off. Why was he even bringing that up? He was the person David wanted, not anyone else. "Never mind. It matters not now, I think I have spoken quite enough."

David tipped his head to one side, a habit which Qubine had grown to love. "Then... perhaps we could find joy in each other as companions?"

Yes! Yes yes yes!

"I suppose that can be arranged."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloody SS pest toxins at the underground level of Robelia Castle Ruins. I think I spent far too long farming for those...


	4. Chapter 4

One of the first things David learned was that Qubine was not entirely comfortable with being touched; even just a hand on his shoulder could cause him to tense up. There was no obvious explanation to it, and Qubine tolerated contact without complaint, but "tolerated" was what it felt like and eventually David decided it was just better if he avoided it altogether, at least for a while.

Because of that, when Qubine subtly rested his hand over David's after a particularly stressful exchange during a Congress session, that touch felt like the world. David didn't dare to claim that Qubine loved him — he would not casually place such a weighty word on anyone — but there was trust and affection, enough for Qubine to do something he clearly did not like just to make David feel better.

"Dave!"

From where he was sitting at the embassy's terrace, he turned around and saw Rush coming over, together with a couple of others he was not expecting. He greeted them all with a smile and waited for Rush, Qubine and Paris to sit down so that they could enjoy the view of Remnant Elysion at night together.

They bantered for a while, Rush handing out some blessed buns he apparently had to fight for while they groaned a little about the day. It had been a long-drawn-out Congress session, by the end of which even the genial Paris, who had come with his father, was ready to throw his arms in the air and scream. But it was all over for now, the lords had come to some sort of agreement and they could all go home.

"You guys are trying to fix the world and here I am, just hanging around waiting for my parents to do their thing at the Academy," said Rush, bending down to retrieve something from a bag he had put down beside him earlier. "Yeah so, a guy gave me this today, let's try it!"

"What is it?"

Rush handed it over. Qubine studied the label, then passed it to Paris, who squinted at it. "This is Royotian wine. Why did someone just give you wine?"

"Long story. Is it any good?"

"I do recommend it, but I'm biased." Paris stood. "I will find us an opener and some glasses."

They drank for an hour or so before Paris decided he should go and Rush announced he needed to sleep, which had to be a lie but David wasn't going to complain.

Then he was left alone with Qubine, who had probably come to see him earlier not expecting to run into the others.

Qubine watched David finish the lasts of his wine, having only had a tiny sip himself. "Feeling better?"

"Yes... sorry, you seem excluded."

"Actually I had fun studying Paris's and Rush's mannerisms."

Oh dear. "Rush as well?"

"Rush is rather easy, but not to worry, I will only launch into the impression when you least expect it."

Chuckling, David shook his head, tired but relaxed now. He wished Qubine would come over and share his bench so that he could lean on Qubine a little, the way friends would, but that would be a bad idea. Qubine might not like it and this was a rather public place where they should not be seen too close together.

"Thank you for your support today," he said, and Qubine answered with a confused frown, he added, "when Priam and Bertrude got started..."

"Even Ghor would have had trouble with those two. You shut them both down, it was very well done." 

"And you calmed me down so that I could carry on."

"Nonsense. You didn't need me. You are capable and would have carried on anyway."

David knew better than, and was too tired, to disagree. "Regardless, I appreciate it."

The night was on the cool side, not uncomfortably so for David, but it seemed like it was enough for Qubine to abandon his seat and sit beside David instead.

"I have an apology to make," he said all of a sudden, his gaze fixed on the floating Remnant above, Elysion glowing warmly in the night.

David turned towards his companion, confused. "What for?"

"The position of acting chairman was offered to me initially, but I did not wish to take it, so I recommended you instead."

David's jaw dropped. Which part of this was more shocking, that Ghor, who had never got on with Qubine, wanted Qubine to take his position, or that Qubine was the one to suggest David's name? He had been told at the start that it was a joint decision based on merits, and did query it in his head since Athlum wasn't even a permanent member of the Congress until that point. So this was what happened?

"But why?"

"Why did I not want the position? Partly out of laziness, partly because I do not wish to deal with the God Emperor. And it seems like something Athlum needs, poisoned chalice though it is."

"I wouldn't call it that. It is something Athlum needs... it's made us very proud, so although the work is hard, there is no need to apologise." It was the first part of what Qubine said that caught more of David's attention, though he wasn't sure what to make of it. The God Emperor was an intimidating man, and a monster who didn't care about people's lives, as it turned out, but one of Qubine's biggest strengths was his ability to handle anyone.

Perhaps it was a personal dislike, then. David couldn't say he blamed him. "The God Emperor is an unpleasant man." Recalling the encounter, he smiled helplessly. "In fact, Rush straight-out called him a weirdo."

A short laugh. "How very discerning. I like him."

No response on the God Emperor part. Hmm. "I'm fine with that so long as you like me more."

Was that a blush creeping onto Qubine's cheeks? "Do you see me Remnant-gazing with him?"

David's smile turned fond. Still, he resisted the urge to lean closer. It was something he could do with Rush but, conversely, not with Qubine. At least not until Qubine was comfortable enough to tell him where the boundaries were.

"I used to love looking at Elysion. I suppose I still do, but my feelings about Remnants are now so... confused."

"Only now?"

"Well, of course not. The Gae Bolg alone has taught me the obvious. But even so... I wonder... what if Elysion collapses?" Legend said that Elysion was bound by Marion Marshall, but that was what it was — a legend. And even if it was true, that happened a millennium ago. "When Hermeien died and Gwayn collapsed, it—"

"But did Hermeien truly die at that point, and did Gwayn collapse? From the reports, there was little time between Miss Sykes being rescued from the Cherry Pavillion and Gwayn running amok. There was no sighting of Luminescence or monsters. Even if Hermeien was killed there and then, and Gwayn became unbound, it would have taken much coincidence for it to have happened at the exact moment when it would have immediately collapsed."

David had not looked at it this way before. He hadn't wanted to think that... "You think that it was Hermeien himself who unleashed Gwayn and destroyed his own city?"

Qubine's brows gathered ever so slightly. "Before death finally claimed him, yes. This makes more sense than Gwayn having collapsed, and Hermeien was the sort of man who would have done that."

Lips pressed together into a thin line, David considered this for a moment, then he heard a soft sigh.

"A logical analysis was not what you were looking for. Sorry about this."

David couldn't help but frown. "It's fine, I don't mind."

"I do," said Qubine. "So, about Elysion... it is quite a gorgeous thing."

Stubborn. "Emma described it to me in great detail, after she and the others were transported there when the Conqueror bound the ark."

"Oh?"

"She likened it to being inside a giant piece of machine. Apparently it looked complex, but navigation was simple and intuitive..."

David wasn't sure how long they spent talking, or at which point he nodded off, but he jolted awake when someone tapped on his shoulder.

"Dave. Dave."

David rubbed his eyes, suddenly aware that his other arm was somewhat trapped by a weight leaning against him, and there was a hand lightly placed over his own. He looked up so that he could see Rush, who was standing just behind the bench. "Yes? What is it?"

"It's past midnight. One of the Celapaleis guys has come over, asking what we've done with Qubine."

"Is it that late?" The man beside David said, eyes blinking open. He pushed himself off David smoothly. "I should go."

Saying that he would go and tell the messenger Qubine would be there soon, Rush left them alone. Thank god it was Rush; had it been Blocter or one of the servants, perhaps explanations would have been requested.

David felt a little flustered, for some reason. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. That wine must have been stronger than it seemed."

The smile Qubine gave him was soft, amused, and kind, one which many others had never seen and perhaps would never have a chance to witness, David thought. And for Qubine to have initiated physical contact too...

"It has been a long week, you should try to get more rest," said Qubine, straightening his clothes, freezing momentarily when David helped him brush a stray lock of hair away from his face. "I, ah... quite enjoyed the evening."

That was far too hasty of him. His hand pausing mid-air, David tried to lower it naturally, instinctively reaching for the relaxed, composed expression he had long perfected. "Me too," he said, not insincerely. "I should let you go. But I will see you again soon and... we can talk more then?"

He walked Qubine to the exit and personally apologised to the messenger for keeping him waiting. A smile, a nod and a "goodnight" later, Qubine was gone, leaving David to berate himself for misreading the signs. Still, he was pleased that Qubine had sat with him, and even leaned on him, while he slept. There was a problem somewhere, it would be silly to deny the fact, but the hurdle was small and David was confident they could overcome it.

"Is your lordshipness going to haul yourself to bed or not?"

David turned around. There Rush was, a hand on his hip, half glaring, half grinning at him. David snorted, bid the doorguard goodnight and headed towards the residential wing with his friend. He really could see that Rush had singlehandedly looked after Irina in Eulam for a considerable length of time. Rush was irrational when it came to Irina's safety, but actually more grown-up than he seemed otherwise.

"Since when have you become my mother?"

"Since you decided to be a kid and hang out with your mates all night instead of looking after yourself and getting some sleep?"

"Whereas, let me guess, you hadn't just spent the night talking with Paris?"

"Yeah, but he needed someone to listen and I'm not the one running himself to the ground." said Rush, and David couldn't argue. "Hey, it looks like you and Qubine are getting on really well these days."

That wasn't exactly a secret now, and Rush had just seen him relaxed and nodding off in Qubine's presence, so the point was going to be raised eventually.

"It has taken me by surprise somewhat as well," David said, feeling guilty for not telling Rush the whole truth. But it just wasn't the time yet.

Rush shrugged. When they turned a corner and got closer to the bedrooms, he lowered his voice out of courtesy. "I kind of had a different impression after the way Blocter used to talk about him, but he seems decent," he said. "Reminds me of you, actually."

"How?"

"Smart, charismatic, a bit cagey?"

They were staring at each other now, Rush with an eyebrow arched, waiting to see how David would react to this probing statement.

Hands behind his back, David tipped his head, smiled and said nothing. Rush huffed.

"Oh come on!"

"Like you said, I'm cagey," said David, his cryptic smile softening after a sigh. "Don't worry, Rush. There is nothing untoward going on."

That depended on what one saw as "untoward". The people of Athlum, his generals and his ancestors might think this was extremely, unforgivably untoward indeed.

"That's not even... Enh, never mind, we'll talk about it when you wanna talk about it."

Rush probably already knew. This was how their friendship worked — they didn't talk about some things not because they respected each other's privacy or that they didn't care, but because, more often than not, they already knew the answer. But knowing something didn't necessarily make it easier to talk about.

Things such as when they fought at the bases around Koenigsdorf, the glow David saw when he turned to look at Rush while still wearing his Remnant's eyepatch.

Then, when Rush said that The Seven must be Remnants, and when he asked Wagram and the God Emperor if the Conqueror was a Remnant, everything made sense.

But they didn't need to talk about that. Understanding needed no words.

 

"Understanding needed no words," Qubine repeated when David told him about the conversation some time later, omitting the delicate details surrounding Rush's true nature.

"You sound skeptical."

"I am not skeptical, I simply do not agree."

"Perhaps that is because you are surrounded by unobservant nitwits — your words, not mine."

Qubine didn't deny that. "Unobservant, unimaginative, and wholly unprepared."

"Hmm." David put an elbow on the armrest of his chair, and rested his head against his knuckles. "Given your high standards, I feel I should be grateful that you tolerate me."

An expression crossed Qubine's face, tamed even before it was formed, before David could catch it.

"Oh yes, because I would give Athlum to someone I merely tolerate."

David dipped his head and laughed.

The hour was getting late, he should let Qubine rest now although they only got to see each other for a little; the visit was unintentional, Qubine was on his way back from a visit to Balterossa and got caught in bad weather when he reached Blackdale.

"The storm should break tomorrow," said Qubine, standing when David did so. "I should like to have a chat with you before I go; Bertrude wants to borrow construction workers and engineers from us."

"How come?"

"In case the Tao Tie is seized."

David fell silent for a moment. The idea of losing a Remnant would have been beyond imagination just a year ago, but now it was something every land had to contend with. Athlum, now without the Valeria Heart, was racing against time to strengthen her buildings before there was earthquake.

"Athlum has no men to spare, she knows that," he said. "And not to be negative, but it would take years to construct aqueducts."

Qubine shook his head. "It's not aqueducts that she wants — she hopes to move her city."

" _Move Balterossa?_ "

"Yes, out of the desert. Should the Tao Tie be moved, Balterossa would disappear under the sand like the Kingdom of Glenys did before the water dries up."

David froze. "Why didn't she mention this at Congress?"

"She does not wish Priam to find out about this too soon, lest Balterossa is taken advantage of. I hope I have persuaded her to rethink." It looked like Qubine was trying not to sigh. "Anyway. I have verbally agreed to help with regards to construction, and to provide refuge should the worst happen. Athlum is not yet ready for something of this scale, but she could perhaps ease the passage for any refugees?"

"I see... yes, this merits discussion and swift planning..." Goosebumps covered David's arms, his skin prickling at the thought of so many lives could be lost, just like that. And, now that he was reminded of the dangers, one question came to mind. "What would happen if the Umbermarici was taken?"

The words made Qubine frown. "I do not know. Perhaps nothing. Or maybe you will find me and my people at your doorstep, begging for help. But I do not know what may happen, and therefore how to prepare for it."

Which was worse, to know that everything and everyone you knew might be drowned under sand, or to not even know what might happen?

Without thinking, he went on his knees and put his arms around Qubine.

"I will not allow anything to happen to you."

The embrace was briefly, and stiffly, reciprocated.

"The sentiment is appreciated, but don't be foolish — never give your word on something you have no power to control."

"I... yes, you're right." This was a lesson, though David wasn't sure what he had learned. He let go and shuffled back a little. Qubine stared at him, his face uncertain, but his gaze warm. "The guest suite should be ready now. Let's leave the discussion on Balterossa for the morning."

Then David got up, uneasy. But he wasn't sure why — was it the way Qubine reacted when David mentioned his tough standards for people, or because he didn't know how the Umbermarici might affect Celapaleis? Or maybe it was because he embraced Qubine on impulse and that might have crossed a line?

Qubine nodded, taking a seat so that he could put his shoes back on, having taken them off earlier for comfort. "David, do you... sleep alone?"

"Pardon?"

"I am curious. Maybe you share your bed on the occasion, or have some other arrangement?"

David had no idea how to interpret the question that just came out of nowhere. Qubine couldn't possibly be thinking that he had been unfaithful, could he?

"I always sleep in my own bed, by myself."

Qubine appeared to be giving things a thought. Shoelaces neatly tied, he stood, and made his way for the door.

"If you would like to find a bed partner, it is not something I would oppose. I thought I should let you know that."

"What in the world—"

"Goodnight, David."

The following day, David wanted to ask Qubine about his words but tight schedules didn't allow them much private time, and he only managed to have a few short minutes alone with Qubine before Qubine had to head home.

"I don't understand your suggestion last night."

Qubine adjusted his coat, then looked up at David, straight in the eye. "I do not think you should be denied sex on my account."

There were so many things David wanted to say that he didn't even know where to begin. He knew Qubine had a problem with physical contact, but only a few days ago they were sitting together at the embassy at Elysion, and Qubine even held his hand. And David was perfectly happy about that. It was time they sat down and talked about exactly what they were comfortable with doing, but a conversation in which Qubine suggested that David could sleep with other people was not one he was prepared for.

"What brought this on? Have I done something that made you feel pressured?"

"Not so. Sometimes I think about various things."

"May I please ask you not to think about something so absurd again?" Just what kind of "various things" did Qubine think about? Damn, this was not the time nor place for a conversation of this nature. "I don't desire anyone — not even you, you might be relieved to know. If something about what we have between us bothers you, would you talk to me about it rather than make assumptions?"

The annoyance and passion in David's response made Qubine part his lips in astonishment. He nodded, but said nothing.

"You said that words are required for understanding. It is hypocritical that you didn't talk to me about your concerns." Years of training helped David to suppress his anger. He looked around. "Your carriage is ready. We shall continue this conversation when we meet in two days' time."

"All right. Take care. I apologise for upsetting you."

"Upset" didn't cover it, but David would have to accept this for now. "Safe journey."

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

As the acting chairman of the Congress David was, in theory, also the acting lord of Elysion and entitled to the use of the associated facilities, but he was staying in the old Athlumian Embassy instead. There was hope that Ghor wouldn't take too long to recover and resume work, and David said it would be rude and just too much hassle to move Ghor's things out. Qubine could appreciated that. It also meant he only had to cross a courtyard to visit David, their embassies so close that no one would insist on accompanying him and then staying around until he left.

Privacy was still not to be easily had, though, since he bumped into Rush Sykes, who came up the steps in the south carrying a paper bag in an arm. They had met a few times and talked a little before. Qubine had — somewhat to his own surprise — quite a good impression of Rush, especially after learning that he and David were not an item.

"Hey Qoobs, what are you doing here?" Rush went over to Qubine, a big friendly smile on his face, and Qubine hadn't even had the time to register that he had just been called _Qoobs_ before Rush carried on. "Paris is coming over in a minute. Come and hang out with us if you're not busy?"

"I... guess I could," replied Qubine, then he realised, to his own astonishment, why he agreed — this person was David's best friend and so he wanted to be friendly with him too.

"Cool. Paris should be here soon. We're going to hang around for a while, make sure Dave's okay, then Paris and I are going to break off," said Rush. "Let's hope Dave is relaxing like I told him to. When he came out of the meeting today he could've cracked nuts between his eyebrows."

"Today's meeting was particularly difficult," Qubine told him. "You are very good to him."

"It's just what friends do. And I promised Emma to look after him. You know what he's like. You should... ha, I was just going to ask you to tell him to slow down since he listens to you, but you're probably just like him, right?"

"I am quite certain that if the choice was available, none of us would need to be told to stop and take a break. But he is a Nassau, I am a Qubine; choice is often a luxury."

Rush chewed on that thought. "Hey, something I've been wanting to know... is Qubine your family name or your given name?"

What a strange question. "It is my only name."

"What? How?"

"It is the name of the one who binds the Umbermarici. There is no given name-family name structure. It is not that odd — mitra is the only race that routinely uses two names. In reality more people in the world go by a single name than two."

"I guess if you put it that way... but your mum was Lady Qubine, right?" Rush asked, and Qubine nodded. "So what did people call you back when she was in charge? You must've had a name of your own."

That was slightly ignorant and invasive, somehow, but it didn't annoy Qubine too much. "I was known as Master Qubine, because I was in line for power."

"Wow, that's hardcore. Thanks for clearing that up, I thought it might be your family name and that's a bit formal and distant."

Rush spoke as if formal and distant was not the norm, as if they should already have been better friends.

"Is formal bad?" It was the more-or-less the only treatment Qubine had ever received, with the exception of David.

"Well, Dave's obviously chummy with you, so you're my friend now as well." Rush flashed a disarming grin. "So yeah, formal's bad."

That was either refreshingly simple or ridiculously stupid and Qubine could not decide which. But he gained a friend, and he didn't have many of those, so it was probably a good thing.

After Paris showed up, they went to see David and a while later Rush and Paris went, as they said they would. By this point, the shadows under David's eyes had deepened, but he no longer looked so stressed. Qubine thought about earlier today, when a snide remark from Bertrude led to what could only be described as a bitchfight between her and Priam, sending the tension of an already difficult meeting through the roof. Seeing David's face darken. Qubine had instinctively taken his hand and squeezed it.

It felt like the most natural thing to do then, he just wished it could always be so easy. There was space beside David on the bench...

"Thank you for your support today," David suddenly said. "When Priam and Bertrude got started..."

Qubine couldn't help but frown. Did David somehow read his mind? "Even Ghor would have had trouble with those two. You shut them both down, it was very well done."

"And you calmed me down so that I could carry on."

Gosh, David looked wonderful like this, so relaxed now, and with such an affectionate smile, as if Qubine truly made a difference and there was nowhere else he would rather be this moment.

Qubine got up. He would go and sit with David, it would be fine as long as he didn't think about it too hard. 

To his relief, David welcomed the intrusion of his personal space and made no remark on it. Qubine settled down, feeling pleased that he managed to do this, but at the same time quite crossed with himself that a simple thing like this had to be such a monumental task for him. But it had been a decade or more since he last had physical contact with anyone, so maybe it was not a simple thing at all.

At least, with them both seated, he didn't feel as small.

And it was nice, truly lovely, to sit with one's companion like this, under the glow of Elysion, and watching him yawn into his hand. Though content, David also looked exhausted, and it made Qubine feel a bit guilty.

"I have an apology to make."

"What for?"

"The position of acting chairman was offered to me initially, but I did not wish to take it, so I recommended you instead." Rivals though they were, Qubine wasn't too shocked when Ghor offered him the post. The work David was doing here should have been his.

"But why?" David asked.

"Why did I not want the position? Partly out of laziness, partly because I do not wish to deal with the God Emperor." Merely the thought of having to meet the man was enough to make Qubine grit his teeth. "And it seems like something Athlum needs, poisoned chalice though it is."

David tipped his head to one side, looking contemplative for a moment. "I wouldn't call it that. It is something Athlum needs... it's made us very proud, so although the work is hard, there is no need to apologise."

If David was in a forgiving mood, then Qubine was perfectly happy to go with that.

"The God Emperor is an unpleasant man. In fact, Rush straight-out called him a weirdo," said David.

Laughter escaped from Qubine's lips before he could help it. "How very discerning. I like him."

"I'm fine with that so long as you like me more."

Oh— but David... how could he... just say things like... he didn't even— didn't even blink...

No no. No no no no no no. He had to stop being... flustered over something like this.

"Do you see me Remnant-gazing with him?"

His heart raced, his cheeks felt warm. Emotions coursed through Qubine, but what should — what could he do with these feelings? If he was an adult, perhaps he would want to, and would be able to, put an arm around David's shoulders. Perhaps he would want to lean in and steal a kiss. But he wasn't an adult, his arm couldn't reach and he didn't want to kiss. All other options available to him were too similar to a child being loved and looked after by an adult, and he hated it all.

He could only sit here, bursting with affection and thoroughly frustrated because he had no outlet.

His thoughts circled over the topic. This was something he would have to get used to. It wasn't as if he had ever been a master at self expression anyway. He could praise, he could mock, he could not tell David how he felt.

And apparently he couldn't just sit and listen to David talk about how he felt either, tossing over his views of what might have happened to Gwayn and Hermeien when David just wanted to talk about Elysion.

"You think that it was Hermeien himself who unleashed Gwayn and destroyed his own city?"

"Before death finally claimed him, yes. This makes more sense than Gwayn having collapsed, and Hermeien was the sort of man who would have done that."

Clumsy with his own feelings, and clumsy with David's as well. Qubine wanted to find a place where no one could see him, and groan. What was he doing? Being used to analysing his own feelings and motivations didn't mean he should do the same to David, especially when they were not at work.

"A logical analysis was not what you were looking for. Sorry about this."

It turned out that he, too, was a bumbling fool, just of a different kind.

"It's fine, I don't mind."

"I do," said Qubine. "So, about Elysion... it is quite a gorgeous thing."

He encouraged David to talk, because listening to David stopped him from thinking too hard, and because he needed to keep his own mouth shut.

And once he managed to temporarily put those unhelpful thoughts about himself in a box and shove it to the back of his mind, it was fine. And he could listen to David's voice, so fluid and gorgeous, and occasionally make sounds of agreement.

And when that voice drifted off and those grey eyes slid shut he could take David's hand, and not worry about how David might react or what he might expect following such a gesture. And he didn't have to feel his own happiness morph into anxiety and anguish because this was all he could do.

This was unfair on David. Qubine didn't think David would ask for what could not be given — that had been made clear since the beginning. There were no expectations on Qubine's shoulders, no complaints about his methods of expression, so stiff, so abridged.

He leaned a little into David.

This felt very nice.

He stayed like this until Rush reappeared and said it was time to go. 

When David's eyes focused and saw that Qubine was beside him, a sleepy smile curled his lips.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. That wine must have been stronger than it seemed."

"It has been a long week, you should try to get more rest," said Qubine, straightening his clothes. "I, ah... quite enjoyed the evening."

The moment was ruined when he reacted to David touching his hair as if it was something wrong. In the blink of an eye David adopted a mask Qubine had seen him use before, when he wanted to mollify.

"Me too," David said. "I should let you go. But I will see you again soon and... we can talk more then?"

Talk. It was indeed one of the only things they could do. And even that Qubine managed to botch up earlier.

Still, David seemed happy. It would be wrong for Qubine to doubt that just because of his own dissonance.

"Of course. Goodnight."

So yes, they should talk more.

 

No matter how much of a drag a journey was, Qubine still liked travelling, and not just for the purpose of getting from one location to another. He enjoyed watching the landscape from his coach — or his horse, if the journey was short enough that his body could endure it — and seeing the arid desert of Balterossa blend into the rich green of the Ivory Peaks, bordered by its famous limestone cliff, starch white, luminescent, proud. This was then morphed, awkwardly, into Blackdale's torn earth, brittle underfoot like a broken man's mask. Yamarn Plain then followed, as if to buffer Athlum against Blackdale's poor temper.

Qubine could wax lyrical about landscapes until even the most enthusiastic geographers and poets either threw up or fell asleep. He wasn't sure why he liked it so much, but no matter, it lightened his mood after an exceedingly bleak meeting in Balterossa, even when the weather began to turn just as he left Ivory Peaks. By the time he reached Yamarn Plain, the ground was too soggy for wheels and the horses were starting to tire.

He couldn't help but crack a smile. This was perfect, as he was missing David terribly and the perfect excuse to visit just landed in his lap.

He told the coachman to head into Athlum, and sent someone to ride ahead, make apologies and request accommodation.

When he arrived, there were tea, biscuits and a rather thrilled David waiting for him, who took his coat and handed it to someone to put in the room being prepared for his stay. It made Qubine smile — just a few months ago David had refused to take his cloak, to make the point that Nassau was no longer in the service of Qubine. But now their relationship was not just political, but also personal.

It was far too late in the night to hope for any birdsong, not to mention too cold and wet to keep windows open, so they picked a room that had a fire crackling in the background. Qubine found some papers on a table and a tea-stained mug beside them.

"Working?" Good, Qubine was a little worried that David had been in bed before his arrival.

"New reports on the Conqueror arrived at around supper time," said David with a mild frown.

Similar bits of paper was probably waiting for Qubine back in Celapaleis, then. "Anything I ought to know right away?"

"His army is ready to march, but there is no clue on its destination."

It could be war in a matter of days, then. And this would be no regular war. Qubine felt his throat tighten.

"Have you informed your generals? Do we need to review our arrangements?"

"I don't think there is any more that we can do until we know his intentions."

"I see."

David gathered the pieces of paper, stacked them up and flipped them over, signalling the end of that conversation, then gestured at the chairs near the fireplace. Qubine helped himself to a seat and took off his shoes, letting his feet be warmed by the fire. They were not indifferent to the threat, but there was simply nothing they could do about the Conqueror right this moment.

David pulled over the trolley with the fresh tea and snacks, and joined him. Much lighter topics were talked about: a book which David had been waiting for had finally been published, a sovani Qubine met when he stopped over at a village during his journey, yet another new network of caves discovered in Blackdale. Nothing that Qubine could use to lead into something else he wanted to say, things he had given much thought to over the past few days with regards to their relationship, and himself.

Perhaps he shouldn't mention it anyway. He didn't want David to feel responsible for his problems. Even if, in a sense, he was. But how was either of them to know that being in a relationship would make Qubine become aware of his own mental situation?

If it wasn't for David, Qubine would have carried on as he was, capable and pragmatic. So he was small, what of it? The qsitis never complained about their smaller size. Besides, Qubine's stature did not prevent him from doing his job, he felt no shame in needing a stepping stool on the occasion — he had made his sacrifices for his people, he would dare anyone at all to make fun of him because of it.

But now.

But now he realised he was dissatisfied. He realised he was frustrated. He realised that, all these years, he had been carefully, logically disassembling these emotions and brushing them towards the deep recesses of his mind so that he could cope. So that he would not go insane. Because he was a grown man in a child's body and _this was not right._

Yes, being with David brought Qubine happiness he had never known, but also rendered him unable to ignore his own issues. His coping mechanism was falling apart. And if he had to choose between being with David and going mad, then that wasn't really a choice he or Celapaleis could afford.

But he didn't come here to end things with David. He had identified a problem, one he wasn't sure if he could overcome, but he was going to try. He just wanted David to be prepared, because keeping quiet felt too much like lying. In the worst case, if Qubine decided he couldn't do this, then at least David wouldn't feel like it just happened out of nowhere.

It was too soon to talk about this, though. Or maybe too late. If they had to face the Conqueror soon, with the chance of a successful campaign being so low, there was no need to discuss something like this anymore. In a way, this was a relief.

There was the other matter though, which he still wanted to say to David...

David was telling him about a conversation he had with Rush. He was quite certain that Rush knew about their relationship, though he had not tried to confirm. It didn't matter, though, because understanding needed no words.

Qubine repeated the words to himself.

"You sound skeptical."

"I am not skeptical, I simply do not agree." There were things that had to be stated, or they would not be understood. If Qubine chose not to tell David the challenges he was facing, then how should David ever find out?

David shrugged. "Perhaps that is because you are surrounded by unobservant nitwits — your words, not mine."

"Unobservant, unimaginative, and wholly unprepared." Sometimes Qubine was quite envious of David's generals.

"Hmm." David put an elbow on the armrest of his chair, and rested his head against his knuckles. "Given your high standards, I feel I should be grateful that you tolerate me."

No, David was the one who was doing to tolerating. Soon he would realise that. "Oh yes, because I would give Athlum to someone I merely tolerate."

David looked lovely when he laughed. It made Qubine want to cross the distance between them, reach out and feel the vibrations on his cheek. But if he did, what next? A regular couple would kiss — he had read enough novels, seen enough plays to know that. And he didn't want to do anything that might confuse David or frustrate him.

Again, this was only about him, and it was pointless to think about it now. He should just sit on his hands and worry again if they survived the inevitable war.

His calm was beginning to fray, and much as he wanted to stay, it was time to get some rest. Tomorrow he would have to head home and ready the army. "The storm should break tomorrow," he said, getting up. "I should like to have a chat with you before I go; Bertrude wants to borrow construction workers and engineers from us."

"How come?"

"In case the Tao Tie is seized."

David paused to think for a moment. "Athlum has no men to spare, she knows that. And not to be negative, but it would take years to construct aqueducts."

Time which Balterossa did not have. "It's not aqueducts that she wants. She hopes to move her city."

" _Move Balterossa?_ "

"Yes, out of the desert. Should the Tao Tie be taken, Balterossa would disappear under the sand like the Kingdom of Glenys did long before the water dries up."

David froze. "Why didn't she mention this at Congress?"

"She does not wish Priam to find out about this too soon, lest Balterossa is taken advantage of. I hope I have persuaded her to rethink." Both Balterossa and Royotia faced huge threats of nature, Qubine had reminded Bertrude. She and Priam would do well to work together now. "Anyway. I have verbally agreed to help with regards to construction, and to provide refuge should the worst happen. Athlum is not yet ready for something of this scale, but she could perhaps ease the passage for any refugees?"

"I see... yes, this merits discussion and swift planning..."

Well, now they would go to bed with grim thoughts. But this was part of the job and they were both used to it. Qubine wondered how many people Celapaleis would be able to shelter. Perhaps some could be sent east to Ghor instead...

"Qubine."

"Yes?"

"What would happen if the Umbermarici was taken?"

It was a question Qubine had already given much thought to, but had arrived at no answer. "I do not know. Perhaps nothing. Or maybe you will find me and my people at your doorstep, begging for help. But I do not know what may happen, and therefore how to prepare for it."

And that was the darndest thing. How was he meant to protect—

His thoughts screeched to a halt.

"I will not allow anything to happen to you."

David—

David was on his knees, holding him. And it felt good. And he felt small. And he felt himself weakening, the fear of the unknown starting to grab hold of him.

To stop himself from running away, Qubine returned the embrace.

He guessed, perhaps, he truly loved this man.

"The sentiment is appreciated, but don't be foolish — never give your word on something you have no power to control."

David let go and sat on his heels. "I... yes, you're right." He look towards the door. "The guest suite should be ready now. Let's leave the discussion on Balterossa for the morning."

They should do that. Qubine went to put on his shoes, his thoughts now a huge jumble. He tried to dig through it, looking for some kind of certainty, but all he could remember was that other thing he wanted to tell David.

"David, do you... sleep alone?"

"Pardon?"

"I am curious. Maybe you share your bed on the occasion, or have some other arrangement?" It wasn't really a question — he didn't think David did. 

"I always sleep in my own bed, by myself."

And that was why Qubine brought it up. The problems with himself, his mental and physical situations were long term, there was no quick or simple way to resolve them. But most adult men would want sex, it was a physiological thing.

"If you would like to find a bed partner, it is not something I would oppose. I thought I should let you know that."

"What in the world—"

"Goodnight, David."

Qubine went to the door and let himself out. To his knowledge most people would get quite embarrassed talking about something like this, and he wanted to spare David.

They discussed Balterossa's request the next morning, with Athlum's generals present. As soon as that was done, Qubine was told his coach was ready to take him home.

As he shrugged his coat on, David tugged him aside for a quick word.

"I don't understand your suggestion last night," he whispered.

Qubine adjusted his coat, then looked up at David, straight in the eye. "I do not think you should be denied sex on my account."

He honestly didn't think that was right. From what he understood, it was human nature. He was the unnatural one.

"What brought this on? Have I done something that made you feel pressured?"

"Not so." But had Qubine ever done something that made David feel frustrated? "Sometimes I think about various things."

"May I please ask you not to think about something so absurd again?" Face flushed, David was gritting his teeth. "I don't desire anyone — not even you, you might be relieved to know. If something about what we have between us bothers you, would you talk to me about it rather than make assumptions?"

Why was David so angry? Qubine merely thought—

"You said that words are required for understanding. It is hypocritical that you didn't talk to me about your concerns," said David.

Qubine didn't know how to explain the fact that he never knew how to explain, because for all his life he had avoided talking about himself and what went on inside his head.

Then David took a step back and looked around, his voice going back to normal volume.

"Your carriage is ready. We shall continue this conversation when we meet in two days' time."

Well, it might just be as well that David wasn't giving him even a moment to utter any word of explanation, since he didn't have any.

"All right. Take care. I apologise for upsetting you."

He didn't mean to upset him. He just thought he came up with a simple and practical solution to a problem, but now David was mad at him.

_He is right. How can you presume to know what he needs? What do you know about adulthood? Qubine, you arrogant fool._

"Safe journey."


	5. Chapter 5

David spent most of the day annoyed, offended that Qubine would even suggest that he might want to find someone to take to bed.

But in the evening, while helping Pagus get a book from a tall shelf and listening to the qsiti talk about the biological differences between the races, David suddenly realised how wrong he was. Qubine wasn't implying that David was base, that he had carnal desires that must be satisfied, or else. It was a matter of biology. Qubine had never experienced sexual desire, so he couldn't understand the complexity of the emotions it could involve. Even if he had read about it, witnessed it, his understanding was still purely academic. He only knew of it as a human need, as something that adults did, and when he said, "I do not think you should be denied sex on my account," that was exactly what he meant. It had nothing to do with how Qubine thought of David, only what Qubine thought of himself.

"What" being the key. He had referred to himself as "something" before.

_You're an unobservant nitwit, David. He'd laid it out in words and you still didn't understand._

Qubine said what he said because he considered David's needs, but David had not done nearly the same in return. What happened to thinking harder from Qubine's perspective? A great notion, but if he didn't actually do it, then a notion was all it would ever be, a lovely idea that only made himself feel good.

He had to talk to Qubine again as soon as possible, but Qubine had just left in the morning and they were scheduled to meet again quite soon, he could not think of an excuse to go to Celapaleis right away.

"Ebru seeds and natural oil are what you need."

"I beg your pardon?"

"For constipation," said Rush, shutting the door with the side of his foot after he dragged David into his room. "And don't ask me how I know... I mean the recipe. I know you're constipated just from looking at your face."

David tried to smile but only managed a pathetic pull of his lips. He guessed he must have a face like thunder today; he had been nasty to Qubine in the morning, and reports on the Conqueror were coming in thick and fast. In short, David was in a terrible mood.

Right now, the ruler of every land must be listening to the same reports and hoping the Conqueror's next target was not them, but someone else. If it was their unity that was being tested, then they were failing this test miserably. What if the Tao Tie or the Emeth Tag was removed? Death would not be at everyone's doorstep, but the effects would ripple across the whole continent. And then there were lands like Celapaleis, which didn't know what to prepare for.

This was people's lives that the Conqueror was trifling with. Thousands and thousands of lives.

"Dave?"

David loosened the fists he hadn't realised he had been clenching. "Yes?"

"I know what you're thinking. Just leave it to me," Rush said. "I'll go and straighten things out with the Conqueror. I'm not originally from Athlum, so you shouldn't take any heat from what I do, right?"

Rush could not possibly be saying this.

"Irina nearly went by herself the other day already—"

"Irina did _what?_ " David's jaw dropped.

"I can't lock her up, and after getting her back from Nagapur and then Darken Forest, I just... you know what? I just can't do it again, running after my sister, going crazy trying to find her." Rush flashed a bitter, tired smile. "So I promised I'll go with her instead. She's got Marion's Blessing and I've got mum's tablet, so if we play our cards right..."

David looked for a place to sit down, in the end choosing the side of the bed. Rush sat down beside him.

He had thought, for a long time, that the only way to stand a good chance against the Conqueror would be to enlist Rush and Irina's help. He still thought so. It was just too hard, even with so much on the line, to make himself ask them.

"I know I'd asked you before not to get my family mixed up in all this stuff, but that was before I realised my family _is_ the reason why all this is happening." Rush drew a shuddering breath, stealing a nervous glance at David. "And I think... I've got to do this. This is my fight. Do you... do you know what I'm talking about?"

So they were actually going to talk about this. David felt himself breathing a bit more easily now, however, because Rush was choosing to trust him. "Yes, I believe I do."

Hearing those words, Rush quite literally folded himself over, dropping his head to his knees as if his spine had melted. "Thank god. I've been trying to work out how to tell you."

David chuckled and gave his friend a couple of firm slaps on the back.

"You're not mad at me?"

"No," said David, feeling melancholy grabbing hold of him. "But I can't let you—"

"Dave, I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for me. It's time I pay you back. If it weren't for you—"

"Allow me to finish — I can't let you fight without me beside you."

Rush lifted his face from his knees, turning his head to look at David, eyes wide with shock. "But how about the God Emperor guy?"

"The consequences can be dealt with later. This is your fight — but not yours alone." It was also David's. Qubine's. Everyone's. "Come on, let's find Torgal and the others."

There was only a moment of hesitation, then Rush nodded firmly.

As they left the room, Rush took another good look at David. "You still look constipated."

"Well," said David, but he didn't continue, not wanting to explain that he was troubled not only by thoughts about the Conqueror.

So much was happening right now, and he just had to pick the worst time to do something as stupid as misunderstand Qubine's intention.

He wondered how Qubine was doing, if he was going to find much support from his own people when they needed to fight. David held some hopes that his generals would follow him, but Qubine...

He wondered how disappointed Qubine was in him right now.

He wondered how Qubine coped, to never truly be the adult he clearly was in his head, to have to battle with those thoughts, and to concede defeat and say what he said to David.

"Dave?"

David felt an elbow in his side. Rush was peering at him.

"I'm fine."

 

Within a day, word arrived that the Conqueror's destination was Elysion. At the audience chamber, David studied everyone's faces — the generals looked just as perplexed as he was. Rush, on the other hand, seemed shaken.

They had no idea why the Conqueror would want to go to Elysion, but the Sacred Lands was a symbol of hope and peace. If it was lost, the damage would be beyond comprehension.

Athlum must march.

In the hours that followed, as they prepared for battle, more reports rolled in - as if expecting Athlum's interference, part of the Conqueror's force appeared to be heading west towards them. David could not say that he was entirely surprised. After his encounters with Wagram, that man must know by now that David would not just sit and do nothing like he was told to.

But with Rush taking part, there was a better chance of victory, and David could afford to make changes to the prepared plans. Qubine was probably going to hate it, though.

"Dave."

David looked up from his maps. Rush was shutting the door behind him. "Yes?"

"We can't let the Conqueror take Elysion. I don't know why I know... I just do. If he gets hold of it, we're all fucked."

Rush didn't swear often. David sighed, his gazed fixed on the map spread before him, tiny flag pins set all over it marking strategic points and troop locations. "I thought that might be the case. There must have been a very good reason why Marion Marshall bound it," he said in a calm tone that belied the urgency of the situation. "Is there a method to stop him from fucking us all?"

David's choice of word made Rush gape, stunned, and then he cackled, tension bleeding out of him like a bowstring being slackened. "Yeah. I think Irina and I can do it."

That response was music to David's ears. "Then I will get you there—"

"Thanks—"

"—and back. We will all come home safely."

"O-okay. Yeah, of course." Rush stuttered. "Hey, so how about the unions that are heading this way? Who's going to stay behind for defence?"

"I have a plan, but it's not—" A knock on the door interrupted David. "Yes?"

"Lord Qubine of Celapaleis has arrived," a voice outside the door announced.

David uttered an apology to Rush and hurried to see his other half.

Qubine's arrival was expectedly low-key. Not wanting to talk in front of everyone, David suggested that they took a walk.

They strolled along one of the gardens of the castle, which had few flowers but a great amount of well-maintained hedges.

"How are your preparations going?"

Thanks to centuries of being at another's beck-and-call, swift deployment was something Athlum was very good at. "We will be ready to go in the morning."

"Good. I will lead my men and meet you at Blackdale as agreed."

David stole a glance at Qubine, then shifted his concentration back on matching those smaller strides. "We should think about defence, however."

"Yes. It seems like it is a sizeable force that is coming this way."

"Would you stay behind and look after the northwest?"

Footsteps stopped. Qubine looked up at David, perhaps angry, perhaps upset, David could not tell. "Explain."

David had to stop himself from reaching for Qubine's hand. "You have seen the numbers that are coming for Athlum and Celapaleis. The defence will not be an easy task."

Qubine's brows knotted. "You are suggesting that you will go to work whilst I stay home to look after the children?"

If he put it like that... "Rush will be coming with me. The Sykes think they have a way to stop the Conqueror."

"They do?" Qubine's eyes widened.

"They believe so. Victory is not impossible."

"That is better news than anything I have heard in a long time." Qubine arched an eyebrow. "But it does sound like you are replacing me with Rush."

"I would not dare to compare the two of you, but he is a good commander in his own right." Qubine was perhaps only joking, but David decided to tread very carefully. "The Conqueror's men are not to be trifled with; leaving behind minimal forces for defence would not be adequate. That mistake must not be made again."

David had learned that the hard way.

A long silence. Qubine's face was still unreadable, but his breathing became shallower.

"I suppose it is pointless in securing the future if we do not protect the people in the present," he said finally, his reluctance clear. "I shall meet those forces at Ivory Peaks. You go around me in the south. I will bring reinforcement to you as soon as I am able."

David knew how difficult those words were. If he could, he would choose to fight side by side with Qubine. But now they were not fighting a hopeless war. They stood a real chance of winning, and fighting to win and fighting to stay alive were very different things that needed very different approaches.

"Last time I left someone behind for defence, I lost her forever." David's heart ached at the thought that Qubine could be met with the same fate. "Try not to do that to me, please."

"Concentrate on your tasks ahead; you need not worry about the rest," said the child-sized man with an air of quiet confidence, as if thwarting invasions was what he did all the time. "I will keep safe what Lady Emma sacrificed herself to protect."

That wasn't what David meant or said at all. "Qubine. Please. Just promise me you won't get yourself killed."

Qubine, for some reason, looked unimpressed. "Do you not think..."

His voice drifted off, and he looked confused for a second, something David rarely ever saw. "Do I not think...?"

A shake of the head. "Nothing. Disregard that. I will stay as safe as I can, and I trust that you will do the same." Qubine checked the time on his wrist watch. "I must head back, inform my army of the change of plans and make preparations accordingly. So I shall bid you goodbye for now."

And just like this, they were going to part, head into the greatest battle of their lives, perhaps never to see each other again.

David couldn't do this, not with apologies still to be made, words still left unsaid.

"Qubine, about yesterday..."

"If there is anything you wish to tell me, do so when you return."

Say them later. Qubine already understood. Fight hard. Fight well. Fight to live, so that he could come back and properly apologise then.

"Of course."

 

 

"Rush! Irina!"

The Conqueror's body lay by their feet, disintegrating into a million pieces that sparkled with that familiar glow of Remnants. The Sykes siblings went to the machine that the man had been using, Rush still aglow with the energy he had just used to destroy their enemy.

"We're gonna send the Remnants back!"

Send them back? "Back to where?" Disregarding the shouts of warning from his generals, David ran up to Rush, grabbing him by his arm. "And how about you? Rush!"

"Back where they came from." An uneasy smile. "And we can be selective... hopefully..."

Irina deciphered how to use the machine and Rush's power commanded it to work. Most of the Remnants were no longer stable and had to go, but they could give the Tao Tie a year, then at least people had time to flee.

"At least Emeth Tag's okay," said Rush, going down the list of the Core Remnants on a screen of light the machine produced in front of them, much like the Tracking Remnant. "Blue Elf's stable and okay to stay as well... hey you know what? You can have Valeria Heart back! Umbermarici needs to go though; the Conqueror's already messed it up before we got here."

David's heart skipped a beat. "It's definitely safe to send the Umbermarici away?"

Rush read the information, written in a language he seemed to innately understand. "Yeah. It won't affect Celapaleis at all."

Thank god for that. That was Qubine's worst fear, allayed.

After a while, everything was set and ready, double and triple-checked.

"Here goes nothing!"

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

Much of the same information David was reviewing the night before was at the castle waiting for Qubine when he returned. And although he had been covertly preparing his army for quite some time, he was still surprised when its leader and his ministers informed him that they were ready to fight at any time.

No longer unobservant, and no longer so unprepared. His staff were finally learning. He hoped this was not all too late.

But without an actual act of aggression from the Conqueror or knowing his intentions, Qubine couldn't declare battle yet. He could only sit there, maps in front of him, people rushing around him, and battle with his own thoughts. He wished the Conqueror would just kill someone already — since he was bound to do so sooner or later — so that he could occupy his mind with thoughts that were not of David.

What a hypocrite he was, telling David that discussion was necessary to achieve understanding, and then go on to make assumptions about David without consulting him at all. He thought he was sparing David some embarrassment, when in truth he was just trying to spare himself the frustration of finding out what David was doing with others or listening to David asking him for permission to do so.

It was a good thing that David suggested, to leave it for now and perhaps talk about it when they next met. By then maybe Qubine would have found the words he needed, something that conveyed "it's not you, it's me" but with more eloquence and less indifference.

It might seem premature to terminate the relationship over just one issue, but there was much more to it than that. This happened partly because of Qubine's error, and partly because of matters that just could not ever be overcome. Even if David did not mind, it would surely drive Qubine into despair one day.

Being with David showed Qubine happiness he had never known. But he could not live his life always aware of the fact that he was a child, and one who did not even have a way of expressing himself to someone he loved. It was time to return to over a decade of denial so that he could stay sane.

But, inevitable as it was, maybe he could wait a little longer. He still wanted to fight beside David in this war, which was just as inevitable. In fact, looking at the state of things, he might be donning his armour the next time they met.

"...Qubine? Lord Qubine?"

His attention snapping back to his surroundings, Qubine found himself being studied by the round, glossy qsiti eyes of his chief of staff. He sat up better. Taller.

"Yes?"

"Would my lord like to take dinner now?"

He nodded and stood.

"Ah, and..." the old woman said, and Qubine's gaze fell on her again. "Is there anything I can assist with?"

It was a leading question and Qubine was not in the mood for this sort of thing. "Whatever it is, say it."

"You seem unusually preoccupied since your return from Athlum this morning." To her credit, she did just as she was told, and quite easily. She had served him for too long to be afraid of him anymore.

And that was the problem. Qubine didn't mind if she knew things, but he did not wish to discuss them even if she meant well. "There is nothing you need to concern yourself over."

She followed him out of the room. "Should I assume that Athlum has not demanded too much from Celapaleis, then?"

Clever. "Athlum has been nothing but pleasant towards us. The discussion process, however, has made me realise the need to review matters regarding Celapaleis herself. For the sake of our land's stability, the separation is necessary and must be completed post-haste."

"I see... But one thing you should know, my boy..." she said, her steps slowing to a stop. He stood several steps ahead of her. He probably wasn't going to like what she had to say next; that was usually the case whenever she adopted the maternal tone.

But he might be off to war in a matter of days. This might be the last time she could speak to him this way. "I am listening."

She turned, looking out the window she was conveniently standing beside.

"The Umbermarici's glow is dimmer today."

No. It looked the same as always. It had to, even if it didn't want to.

"Nonsense."

 

To Qubine, the news that the Conqueror's army was headed towards Elysion came as a relief — finally he could fight. The wait had been long enough, like a noose waved in the vicinity of his neck. He wanted it over and done with. This order of events was also preferable to having to first talk with David about what happened that night.

He hurried to Athlum, with a plan to strictly confirm departure time and battle strategies only. David took him to a part of the grounds he rarely visited, a sizeable garden that had recently been tended to, its layout offering a good amount of privacy.

"How are your preparations going?" asked Qubine, trying not to pay attention to how David was deliberately matching the length of his strides.

"We will be ready to go in the morning."

Qubine expected nothing less. His original question was redundant, really. "Good. I will lead my men and meet you at Blackdale as agreed."

"We should think about defence, however."

That was a tricky point. They had not anticipated the Conqueror splitting up his force. Qubine wondered if that Wagram mage had anything to do with this. "Yes. It seems like it is a sizeable force that is coming this way."

"Would you stay behind and look after the northwest?"

Pausing mid-stride, Qubine tried to contain his reaction to the suggestion, and stop himself from attempting to decipher the intention behind it. He had caused enough offense by making assumption just the other day.

"Explain."

David looked pained, somehow. "You have seen the numbers that are coming for Athlum and Celapaleis. The defence will not be an easy task."

Qubine's brows knotted. "You are suggesting that you will go to work whilst I stay home to look after the children?"

"Rush will be coming with me. The Sykes believe they have a way to stop the Conqueror."

"They do?" Qubine didn't think David would lie about something of such great importance, but how? He had heard that Irina Sykes had the power of Marion's Blessing, but did her brother share the same power?

"They believe so. Victory is not impossible."

"That is better news than anything I have heard in a long time." Qubine arched an eyebrow; whatever it was Rush was capable of doing, it did not look like David was going to give an explanation. "But it does sound like you are replacing me with Rush."

Because it did. If this was to be the moment David revealed that he wished to pursue a relationship with Rush instead, then Qubine would rather they got to the point now.

But, his face flinching briefly at Qubine's words, David claimed to have no other motives. "The Conqueror's men are not to be trifled with; leaving behind minimal forces for defence would not be adequate. That mistake must not be made again."

Damn David for dealing this card.

Damn David for everything, really. For making sense here with his suggestion. For still looking so sincere, as if he wished he didn't to have to ask this, even though he could not possibly know how much Qubine wanted to go with him.

But, never mind. If David honestly thought there was a chance of victory, then Qubine would dutifully play his part. And even if this was a manoeuvre for some other reason... then let this be the final concession Celapaleis would make to Athlum.

"I suppose it is pointless in securing the future if we do not protect the people in the present," Qubine said finally. "I shall meet those forces at Ivory Peaks. You go around me in the south. I will bring reinforcement to you as soon as I am able."

"Last time I left someone behind for defence, I lost her forever. Try not to do that to me, please."

How dare David use Lady Emma's memory to blackmail him again.

"Concentrate on your tasks ahead; you need not worry about the rest. I will keep safe what Lady Emma sacrificed herself to protect," said Qubine, quietly annoyed. If David would not have them fight together, then he already forfeited his right to make other demands.

"Qubine. Please. Just promise me you won't get yourself killed."

Whatever Qubine chose to do, he would do it his way, for the best of his people. He would promise nothing else. "Do you not think..."

What was he doing?

David cared. This was all it was. Why was he trying to pick a fight when this might be the last time they ever spoke to each other?

"Do I not think...?"

Let David hear what he wanted to hear. It didn't matter anymore.

"Nothing. Disregard that. I will stay as safe as I can, and I trust that you will do the same." Qubine checked the time on his wrist watch. "I must head back, inform my army of the change of plans and make preparations accordingly. So I shall bid you goodbye for now."

And just like this, they were going to part, head into the greatest battle of their lives, perhaps never to see each other again.

At least, in one way, this worked out just as Qubine wanted. They didn't have to talk about what happened—

"Qubine, about yesterday..."

They did not need to talk about that now.

"If there is anything you wish to tell me, do so when you return."

"Of course."

 

The moment it happened, Qubine instinctively understood what the Sykes's solution to the Conqueror was.

Heat ripped through him, fire pulverising every muscle, every nerve. He could have burst into flames at this point and he would not have been able to tell at all.

_"What would happen if the Umbermarici was taken?"_

The Umbermarici had to be destroyed, and it was going to take him with it.

He had, perhaps, romanticised the idea of dying with David by his side but in the end, it was a good thing that they weren't fighting together. David need not see this, the result of a decision he had no choice but to make.

The world vanished from Qubine's vision.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey Dave. What's eating you?"

A friendly hand landed firmly on his shoulder, causing David to jump. At his friend's concerned look, David simply shook his head. Rush frowned at him, and was probably about to remind him that they really could talk about anything — and that was true, they could, and had, and Rush had never judged him — but right now David didn't want to talk. So he shook his head again before Rush could speak.

"Sorry. I just need to think."

"You've been needing to think for two weeks. I know the meeting got cancelled again and you've been itching to get things done... sorry."

"It's not your fault."

The world had changed since the Conqueror was killed. Gwayn, Umbermarici, Gae Bolg, Dead Heart and a number of other Remnants were no longer part of this world. And this meant many changes, some good, some bad. Whilst some lands had to learn to cope without the help of a Remnant, other lands were liberated, no longer held ransom by powerful artifacts beyond their control.

Celapaleis should be of the latter. Rush had confirmed that there was no danger in taking away the Umbermarici, so there should be little reason for Qubine to be too preoccupied. And yet, there had not been a single word from Celapaleis for two weeks already, no reply to all the messages David sent that way. He had heard that the defending of the northwest had been exceptionally difficult, and that was why Qubine had not brought him the reinforcement as promised. But Qubine had not suffered serious injury as far as David was told. So why the silence?

Rush's shoulders sagged by a few degrees. "Hey, maybe Qubine's just busy like you, sending help to other countries and stuff."

David hoped so, but he didn't think that really was the reason. Last time they parted, they had left important things undiscussed. It wasn't a fight that they had, but it was far worse than that. He had been blind to Qubine's suffering and his generosity.

"Perhaps."

Perhaps Qubine had changed his mind about them.

"Lord David, a messenger from Celapaleis has arrived."

The announcement made David abandon his lunch and race to the audience chamber, Rush following closely behind him. In came a qsiti woman, not just any messenger but Qubine's chief of staff Lameia, which raised everyone's eyebrows. She handed over a sealed envelope.

A letter, rather than a visistone. How old-fashioned.

_Lord David,_

_Hope you are keeping well. Apologies for my absence — I have been taken ill. At first I had hoped it would pass quickly, but evidently it is not to be. Please do not come to visit, as the disease is contagious between mitras._

_My messenger will bring you the final documents for your review, so as to not delay the ongoing procedures._

_With regards,  
Qubine_

Qubine was sick?

David reread the words — less austere than he expected, in fact almost affectionate, coming from Qubine — then looked up from the letter, just in time to see Lameia pass a large leather folder to Torgal. "These are written based on your final draft. Once Athlum has checked that they are satisfactory, they can be signed and submitted to the Congress for records purposes," she said, her gaze flicking towards David worriedly. "And Lord David, I presume you would want a word..."

Ignoring the confused stares of the Athlumian generals, David and Lameia found a room in which they could talk in private.

"I was not meant to be here, Lord David. I intercepted the messenger and said I would go in his place." The woman took off her tall hat and clutched it against her chest. "My Lord Qubine is terribly sick."

"So his letter says. Please, tell me more."

"He has forbade us from talking with you. I hope that you are grateful; I am risking my pension here." A long sigh. "He is in a great deal of pain and we have found nothing that can alleviate it. He screams and writhes and then passes out, only to come around and do the same again."

As the qsiti's eye began to water, David's blood turned cold.

"What manner of illness is this?"

The woman dabbed her eyes dry with a handkerchief. "We are not entirely sure, but it may be to do with the loss of the Umbermarici, since my lord fainted the moment that light shot out from the Sacred Lands, and he has been this way since then."

David wanted to find something to punch, but settled for clenching his fists instead.

So this was what was going on. Removing the Umbermarici had no effect on Celapaleis, but it was bringing suffering to the person it was once bound to. While David rejoiced in his freedom from the Gae Bolg, he had not even stopped to imagine what it might mean to Qubine.

"I'd like to see him."

 

The generals didn't know what to make of David's sudden announcement that he was heading to Celapaleis, and David wasn't sure what to tell them, so he didn't explain. Rush managed to read the situation though, and offered to go with David, which eased a lot of worries.

Rush was now waiting in the great hall, perhaps talking to people, making friends, doing what he did best, while Lameia showed David to another room.

"Two things before you enter, Lord David, so that you are prepared," said the woman with a lowered voice, her padded hand curled and ready to knock on the door. "Movement causes him pain, so please avoid jostling him. And he looks quite different from when you last saw him. Please try not to be alarmed."

She waited until he gave her a nod before knocking. The door was opened from the other side, hushed words were exchanged, and a few people left from the room.

Then David was alone with Qubine, after being told to use healing arts should the lord start to show distress.

The first thing David thought was: just what did they mean by showing distress? Because Qubine was clearly already suffering.

Sitting on a bed, propped up by cushions, Qubine was dressed in just a robe. The man's face was dipped, his breathing deliberate.

David closed the door behind him with a soft click. Qubine didn't look up.

"Water."

David located the jug nearby and poured a glass. There was already a chair by the bed so he sat down and held the glass to Qubine's lips. He could count the ribs on Qubine's chest. How could a person lose this much weight in a mere two weeks?

It was only when he saw the hand holding the glass that Qubine realised who it was sitting by his bed. He pulled away, nearly knocking the glass over.

"David?"

"Peace, my love." David tried to keep his voice level. "Drink first."

It took a few moments before the simple task was done and Qubine was made as comfortable as possible.

"Who was it? I am going to have them sacked."

David just shook his head. "Look at you." He grasped Qubine's hand. "Why are you not eating?"

A flinch, and Qubine's gaze flickered to their hands in rare, clear show of panic. "David..."

Damn, he had forgotten again. David let go. "I'm sorry."

But after a moment, Qubine reached for him, his movement stuttered and laboured as if his joints had rusted.

"I am eating. Ask around if you do not believe me." Fingertips touched the back of David's hand. "And you may hold my hand. Lightly, if you would."

Then this wasn't about disliking physical contact — Lameia did use some quite dramatic words to describe Qubine's condition, and evidently they were not mere exaggeration. David felt like he had to do something, although he didn't know what he could do, and fought to stay seated instead.

"Do even your hands hurt? Where else is the pain?"

"Talking about it will not make it better."

"Even so, I still want to know." That response did not bode well. "Do you know why this is happening? Is it because of the Umbermarici?"

"I assume so. You seem unaffected by the loss of your Remnant."

David nodded with a keen sense of survivor's guilt.

"I am glad." A stiff smile. "Speaking of which, congratulations on your victory. You did not need my reinforcement in the end."

"Please don't keep changing the topic."

"Why keep asking about that I do not wish to discuss? Am I allowed to not think about pain for a few minutes?" Qubine pulled his hand away. He was starting to tremble hard, fresh beads of sweat breaking out on his face. "My apologies, but you must leave."

As if David would go now, after being kept away for all this time. Besides, he had already been warned, and quickly used healing mystic art as he was told, but the effect was barely noticeable.

"David. Please leave. I do not wish for you to see me like this."

David simply tried again. And again. "How about healing herbs? Have you—"

"I have been taking them. They are wearing off and I cannot take more again so soon lest I get poisoned by the leaves... Please, I beg of you, at least allow me my dignity!"

David stayed.

 

The sky was pitch black. After being told where Rush had gone to, David dragged himself to his best friend, and they headed homeward. Normally it would be troublesome to travel in darkness, but there had been few monsters since the war, and this was a route so well used the coachman could take them home even with his eyes closed.

"Are you alright? You look exhausted."

David guessed he didn't look that good right now. He had overexerted himself with the mystic art, and he had watched what he would rather never see again, the sight of someone he loved writhing in pain until fatigue sent him to sleep. But even so, David didn't want to be here right now. He would rather have to see that again and be by Qubine's side than go home on this damn coach.

He was no physician, but to him it looked as though Qubine's body was trying to destroy itself. How else could a person be in that level of agony? And how long was this going to last? How long could Qubine last?

"Dave?"

"My apologies, I was preoccupied," said David, reminding himself again and again that this was not Rush's fault. "Rush, at the Sacred Lands... was there any information on the effects of removing Remnants from the people they were bound to?"

Rush frowned in thought. "Nope. We took the thing so I can check again when we're home, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't say anything. Why?"

"Hmm..."

"Is it about the Gae Bolg and stuff?"

"No, it's just a thought."

"Come on, talk to me."

"Sorry, I need to first sort my thoughts out. I appreciate your help today."

Once David stopped feeling like he would either break down in tears or punch a hole into the nearest object out of frustration, he could talk.

"Hey." A hand squeezed his shoulder. "If you've got questions about Remnants, maybe my parents can help you."

Yes. Yes, he ought to consult John and Marina. But would that be wise? The news that Qubine was ill from a mystery sickness did nothing good to Celapaleis back when the Conqueror was alive. If similar news was to spread again, so soon after the land lost her Remnant...

But were there alternatives? If there was a chance that the Sykes knew what to do to save Qubine's life, then surely anything was worth it. Something had to be done. If this was allowed to continue, Qubine would die, without a doubt. Even if his spirit could not be broken, his body was very small, and very mortal.

He must speak with the Sykes as soon as possible.

David leaned forward, slid open the small window and told the coachman to hurry.

He must find a way to save Qubine.

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

He dreamt that he was falling apart like a poorly-made doll. A toe here, an ankle there, joint-by-joint, coming apart. His hair was falling out too, and in annoyance he decided to pull it all out, only to find he no longer had hands. Or elbows. Or arms. Those were all scattered about like pieces of the Umbermarici, each glowing dully. And now his head, too, was amongst the pieces. They floated, the light fading, then suddenly bursting through, intense like the Luminescence that always spelt disaster, and he heard the sound of the pieces of himself cracking—

Then he woke.

Pain. It was here before he lost consciousness, it was still here after he came to. This cycle had gone on for two weeks, according to his staff, but it felt like years had passed. There was much he had to do, but this cursed body could not even stand up. A speech to his people with regards to the Umbermarici was now overdue. Athlum must be anxious about finishing the details of the Independence. And David...

After jolting awake, Qubine took as much healing herbs as he could, and then penned a letter to David. Athlum should not have to wait, and David deserved an explanation on his silence, even if said explanation was half a lie.

_Lord David,_

_Hope you are keeping_

The nib of his pen pressed against the paper, ink bleeding and ruining the writing, Qubine looked up. "The war."

"My lord?" asked his chief of staff.

"The war was won?"

He couldn't be sure. He thought he had heard about it. His last solid memory of the battlefield was that of his forces repelling the seventh wave of attack, but what happened after that?

"Yes, my lord. Your men eliminated the enemy's forces, and Athlum's army felled the Conqueror," Lameia informed him, probably not for the first time. "The Lord of Athlum returned triumphant and unharmed."

David was alive. Thank the gods. Somewhere in the back of his mind Qubine already knew this, but the confirmation still brought great relief.

"Any word on the Gae Bolg or the Valeria Heart?"

"The Valeria Heart has returned to its original location. We have heard naught about the Gae Bolg, would my lord like to summon the head of intelligence service?"

"Not this moment." Qubine assumed all would become clear at the next Congress. He quickly jotted down what he had just been told, placing the piece of paper by his pillow even before the ink was dry. "If I ask the same questions again, tell me I have made myself a note."

"Yes, my lord."

After that, Qubine penned the letter to David, to be delivered immediately, fortunately completing the writing before his hand began to shake again. Then it was a meal, followed by examinations by physicians — an almost unbearable amount of physical contact, but at least the chief physician was not mitra — followed by updates on the land. He handed down instructions while several people used healing mystic art on him although no wounds could be seen, the air so thick with energy it was surely enough to bring back the dead.

He had woken late, and by the time Lameia returned and dismissed the team of healers, the sky was already black. The pain sharpened immediately at the loss of healing, but Qubine dipped his face and bit back a groan. If she hadn't told them to leave, he would have. It was getting late and they were tiring out. He refused to be remembered as the lord who worked his staff to exhaustion for his own comfort.

"Water."

A glass entered his vision, held not by the soft qsiti hand he was expecting, but by a mitra. A hand that had held his own before.

"David?" Qubine jerked back, the movement causing such agony he would have screamed.

Why was David here? He did not wish to be seen like this at all. Or was his mind playing tricks, trying to seek comfort when there was none?

"Peace, my love. Drink first."

The water tasted sweet, with the faint aroma of nectar. Perhaps someone had taken the liberty to mix some in. That Qubine did not mind. There was something much more important to discuss.

"Who was it? I am going to have them sacked."

David just shook his head. "Look at you. Why are you not eating?"

He grasped Qubine's hand, running his thumb over the joints that had become too prominent. The gesture felt like he was pouring acid over Qubine's bones.

"David..."

Stop. Please stop.

David let go. "I'm sorry."

But after a moment, Qubine reached for him, his movement stuttered and laboured, tried as he did to make it look natural. "I am eating. Ask around if you do not believe me." David was here to see him. Just the thought made him feel stronger, yet more vulnerable at the same time. "And you may hold my hand. Lightly, if you would."

He could see when the words registered. David must have been told too much.

"Do even your hands hurt? Where else is the pain?"

It would be quicker to list where the pain was not. "Talking about it will not make it better."

"Even so, I still want to know. Do you know why this is happening? Is it because of the Umbermarici?"

"I assume so. You seem unaffected by the loss of your Remnant."

David nodded. So the Gae Bolg was gone, then. David's life was no longer threatened by that noose.

"I am glad." Qubine spoke from his heart. The pain was rising; the effects of the medicines were fading. He must wrap up this conversation and send David home. "Speaking of which, congratulations on your victory. You did not need my reinforcement in the end."

David looked a little exasperated. "Please don't keep changing the topic."

"Why keep asking about that I do not wish to discuss? Am I allowed to not think about pain for a few minutes?" Qubine pulled his hand away. He was starting to tremble hard, fresh beads of sweat breaking out on his face. "My apologies, but you must leave."

As expected from a man used to providing help on a battlefield, David's response was to channel healing arts. After knowing each other for so many years, this was actually the first time Qubine experienced David's mystic art.

It was not a topic often discussed, as efficiency was the single most important factor in the world of the mystic arts, but each person's art had a slightly different register, much like how everyone's voices were not the same. David's art felt gentle, with an ardent undercurrent that was strictly controlled.

It amused Qubine that David's mystic art was just like the man himself.

But this was no time for this sort of thing.

"David. Please leave. I do not wish for you to see me like this."

The honesty turned out to be counterproductive. David simply pushed his healing art harder, dulling the edges of the blades twisting in Qubine's body. "How about healing herbs? Have you—"

"I have been taking them. They are wearing off and I cannot take more again so soon lest I get poisoned by the leaves... Please, I beg of you, at least allow me my dignity!"

The flow of mystic art never faltered. David did not take his hand from Qubine's, he did not leave. And Qubine could only lay there, relying on the pool of resolution that had got him through this uneasy life so far to give him the strength to hang on.

He would not scream in front of David. He would not succumb to the agony, he would not weep. He would be strong, valiant.

"You did receive the final documents..."

"Yes, they are being checked."

"I apologise for the delay... Ah, for me to be in such a state..."

"The Duke of Ghor won't find out, you need not worry."

Qubine chuckled despite himself. David's presence brought him comfort. He would not say it out loud though, lest David felt obliged to be here.

"This is sufficient, David. You need to return to Athlum."

"Unless your words are that of your adoration for me, hush."

 

Qubine did not remember falling asleep.

Sunlight crept under the curtains, not quite reaching the bed yet, but just touching the chair David sat on the night before, now empty. He left no note, but that was to be expected. Too many people came in and out of this room to trust that a note would not be read by others.

He shifted, trying to sit up. If he had grown weaker than yesterday, he could not tell, all he could feel was the deep ache in his bones, the spasm in his muscles, the fire in his tendons.

As he moved, he heard a rustle by his ear. It was only the note he had left himself by the pillow. At first he ignored it, but on second thought...

With a good amount of difficulty, he picked up the piece of paper. Ha, just as he thought.

_I'll visit again as soon as I'm able._

There was so much they still had yet to talk about. But there was the war, and then this. And those things that had kept them apart, from Qubine's mental dysphoria, to his struggle to display affection, to the physical needs that David insisted did not matter, those were of little importance now.

How ironic, to have to endure this after winning the war, to be free of the Remnant which had imprisoned him only to discover he could no longer live without it. But he must carry on for as long as this useless, wretched body would allow. For Celapaleis. For himself. He wanted to live in this new era that David had ushered in. He wanted to change, to learn, to become someone truly worthy of David's affection.

He had go on for as long as he could. But in his heart of hearts, he knew he hadn't much time left. He hoped, at least, that he had been good enough for his people, that they were proud of him. That David would be a little bit proud of him and would be able to say, one day when he looked back, that there was once someone he loved. He was far from perfect, but he was brave until the end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The format of the story changes at this point, there will only be one pov each chapter.

At first light, David went in search for John and Marina Sykes at the south wing of the castle, where they were staying. He hadn't slept, he was on edge, and he couldn't tell if the goosebumps on his skin was because of the cold or something else. Passing by the garden where Qubine accepted his suit, he quickened his pace, nearly breaking into a run — there was no time to waste.

He could hear movement, maybe John and Marina were already up. David knocked on their door.

"Lord David?" It was John who answered. He was dressed for the day. "I mean, good morning..."

"My apologies. There's something I need to speak to you and Marina urgently about—" said David, his gaze shifting to the room behind John. Marina was at a table, putting a bundle of clothes into a large travel sack. "—you are packing? Why?"

"Please, come in." John stepped aside for David to enter. "We heard from the Academy yesterday, while you were out. There are reports on some people experiencing strange effects after losing the Remnants they were bound to. We need to go and do some studies."

It wasn't just Qubine, then? "What kind of effects? Are they life-threatening?"

"It depends both on the Remnant and the person, but there is nothing too severe as far as we're aware. But, you know, we're academics, so this is very interesting... anyway, Lord David, you said there's something urgent?"

If lives weren't being threatened, then the Academy could wait. "Yes, regarding Lord Qubine of Celapaleis." David clenched his fists.

Silence. Then Marina drew a sharp gasp.

"Oh, no." She fixed her eyes on David, brows creasing in alarm. "The Umbermarici was a Core Remnant! How is he?"

 _Dying_. That was the truth, but David couldn't utter it. "Would you go to Celapaleis and see if there is anything you can do?"

"Yes! Right away!"

 

In the end, Marina went to Elysion, and John took Irina with him to Celapaleis, carrying a letter from David persuading Qubine to accept the Sykes' help. He didn't go with them, couldn't, not only because it would raise eyebrows, but also there was far too much to do — the papers regarding Athlum's independence had been signed and today, Athlum should be celebrating.

But not yet. David had asked to push things back for a few days, using his late father's birthday as his excuse. Would it not be lovely if the greatest event in Athlum's history coincided with the day of his father's birth? And there were speeches to write, ceremonies to prepare for. They would only get to do this once, and they must do it right.

The ministers agreed to hold the declaration back. David got away with it, but he wasn't proud of himself.

Independence was something he had strived hard for, and so important to his people. But how was he supposed to feel joy when the one he loved was withering away? Besides, Qubine hadn't made any public appearance since the end of the war, and such a thing would definitely be demanded of him as soon as Athlum made her announcement. David would rather wait, and hope that the Sykes could help.

After supper, David found himself a chair, a notebook and a pencil, and sat on the landing outside the castle's audience chamber, where he could plan his speech under the Valeria Heart's glow. He was going to try, anyway, although he could hardly sit still. John and Irina had still not returned. Was this a good or bad sign?

"Hey, there you are."

Well, one member of the Sykes family was still around. "Rush." David smiled at his friend, who was coming up the steps leading to the landing.

"I know I keep asking, but are you okay?" Rush leaned against the railing, his back to the Valeria Heart. "You look like crap. Did you even get any sleep last night?"

"I'm fine. How about you? I thought you would have followed Irina. Are you certain you are happy to let her so far out of your sight?"

"Dad's with her, it's okay." Despite his words, Rush was a little uneasy. "Dad's kind of spacey sometimes so I bet Irina'd end up looking after him but... Anyway, I didn't come to talk about me! Everyone's worried about you, you know. What's going on? It's something to do with Celapaleis, right?"

It was hard to turn down such a sincere offer to listen, but turn him down David must. "I cannot talk about it right now. Truly. And I appreciate your concern, but..."

"Yanno, I was thinking maybe you got dumped, but now my dad's involved so I guess that's not it?"

David's heart skipped a beat. Rush now looked quite shifty, shrugging and grinning and pulling that "please don't get mad at me" expression when David gaped at him.

With a silent sigh, David rose from his seat and stood with Rush, facing the empty and dark audience chamber. "No, I have not been dumped." And that was all the response Rush was going to get for his probing question. He could interpret it whichever way he liked. "Never mind me, Rush. How have you been?"

Rush was wry. "You say that like you don't see me everyday."

"I've been terribly self-centred as of late, concerned only with my own affairs." David dipped his head. This wasn't merely a simple strategy to make Rush the topic of the conversation. He _had_ neglected Rush since the war ended — since before the war, even.

"Hey, don't worry about it! You had a war on your hands! And everyone's like that during the honeymoon period, haha."

David chose not to respond to that. Even if it was true, there was a difference between presumed knowledge and confirmation. If in the future his generals became upset that they weren't told first, he could always claim that he never told Rush anything.

"Say, what are your plans now? Have you had time to consider Torgal's suggestion?"

"Yeah." Rush fell silent for a few moments, glancing back at the Valeria Heart. "It depends on what everyone else wants too. Mum told me before that she wants to go back to Eulam but, I don't know, Dad lives to work, and Mum can never turn down people who need help, and there are all sorts of things going on right now that need help after all the Remnant stuff. Maybe they'll want to live near the Academy? And I don't know what Irina wants to do. After all that's happened I just want us to stick together, you know?"

So Rush was saying that he had thought about Torgal's invitation to work for Athlum, but family would take priority. David could respect that. It meant, rather than trying to persuade Rush, he should try his darndest to convince Rush's family to move to Athlum instead.

"I'd love for you to stay in Athlum, you know that," said David. "But whatever your decision is, I'll support you. Just know that if you do want, there's a place for you and your whole family here."

"Hehe, that's quite the invitation from the Marquis of Athlum! Thanks, I'll remember that."

"Since when have I ever been marquis to you anyway?"

Rush grinned and shrugged. "Oh yeah, what'll be your new title after you get independence? Duke? King? The Almighty?"

Rush was always good at making David laugh. "That's as yet undecided. Pagus is doing some research for us. Likely we will narrow it down to a few options then let the people tell us what kind of a land they want Athlum to become, and my title will change accordingly."

"I bet they'll want you to be king." Rush grinned again. "King Dave I."

"I feel I'm too young to carry a title like that." Prince, maybe, if he must. The idea of establishing a monarchy and declaring himself royalty made David uneasy, but if that was what the people wanted, then they would get it.

"Really? But Qubine's been a duke since he was what, nine?"

"Ten. I was too young to remember the event, but I've read that nobody was comfortable with it back then. It happened only because it must."

"Oh man, that's just so harsh. Imagine having to bind a Core Remnant before you even learned where babies come from."

This chat was getting a little too depressing. David tried to lighten the mood. "I cannot. But that's not too relevant to me anyway — the babies part."

Nor to Qubine, he thought, and it looked like the same thought occurred to Rush too, judging by his expression. Still, Rush cackled.

"Yeah, that. I suppose you have the succession stuff worked out?"

"It's never been a problem. Just five generations ago the lord of Athlum wasn't a Nassau, but a Hesse. The lord declared civil war against Celapaleis and was executed after his defeat. His only child was killed in battle, but even if that wasn't the case I doubt she would have been allowed to succeed him," David told Rush. "The Nassaus were brought in as a safe option; my great-great-grandfather was considered absolutely loyal to the Qubines."

"Wow, seriously? And then you went and planned civil war again?"

David just smiled. Those were more... savage times, but he could still have ended the same way the last Hesse did, yes. "My point is that appointing someone because succession is impossible isn't something new to Athlum's history. I just hope my people will trust my decision."

"Of course they will. You don't have citizens Dave, you have fans." Rush arched an amused eyebrow. "But hmm, I really need to read up on all this history stuff. I bet you think I'm an idiot."

Fans? What was Rush even talking about? "I do not. Athlum's history has never been relevant to you."

Rush shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I guess not. But knowing more in general would stop me from committing more faux pas."

It sounded like there was a story to be told. "For example?"

Eyes rolled briefly in thought. "Well there was that time when I asked Qoobs if—"

"Qoobs?" asked David, the realisation dawning as soon as the word left his mouth. His eyes widened. "He lets you call him that?"

"He didn't tell me off." Rush shrugged like it was nothing at all. "I asked him if that's his family name or given name."

Should he laugh or cringe? David wasn't sure. "When was this? And what did he say?"

"When we were in Elysion for Congress, I think? He just explained it to me. I had no idea no Qubine gets a name of their own. That actually made me kind of upset, but he seemed okay with it."

Yes, that was the way it had always been. A long line of Qubines, different faces but all bearing the same name, existing only to serve a single function: to keep the Umbermarici bound. The running of the land was left to the prime minister until the several generations ago.

If one took it all apart, one would see that "Qubine" was a role rather than a name. Whether or not the Qubine who now lived in Celapaleis castle was truly "okay" with not having a name of his own, David didn't know. Perhaps he just accepted it. Why shouldn't he? All those who came before him, for hundreds of years, did the same.

David didn't want to think about this right now.

"Even so, calling him 'Qoobs' is disrespectful."

"No it isn't, you're just jealous. Don't you have your own pet name for him?"

Rush truly was not going to let this go, if that elbow currently rubbing against David's ribs was anything to go by.

"You keep bringing the topic back to Lord Qubine, although I've already said there is nothing to tell."

"You didn't say that. You said you can't talk about it."

Well, wasn't someone being smart. "Fine. The result is the same, however."

"Not necessarily. You can talk to me, and I can pretend I never heard anything." The elbow was gone, replaced by a friendly arm around the shoulders. "And I won't judge you — promise."

"I know you won't." David sighed lightly. It looked like he had to bow to Rush's persistence. "What is there to tell? It seems like you already know."

Rush shook his head. "You've been down in the dumps for a few weeks. What happened? Even if I can't help, I can listen."

_Qubine has issues with physical contact and obviously we cannot be intimate. He considered my needs and told me to seek from others what he cannot give, but instead of realising it was a reflection of how he felt about himself, his utter helplessness and his decision to sacrifice again for someone else, I snapped at him. And now he is dying._

That was it, in summary. Simply thinking about it was making David's chest ache. Maybe he did need to talk about it before the feeling crushed him.

But he couldn't say any of that out loud, not here.

"Let's go somewhere private," he said. Beside him, Rush nodded and began to steer them towards the steps, but they had not even left the landing before coming to a stop, seeing Emmy standing near the top of the steps. It was evening and just like David, she was out of her official attire and dressed in something much lighter instead. But there was still no missing the fact that she was a warrior in her bones. It was the way she held herself.

The expression on her face at this moment, though, was definitely not that of a warrior. Her complexion had darkened from a deep blush, the light from the Valeria Heart just bright enough to make it obvious, and she gasped.

"Lord David! I just got here — you said to let you know as soon as there's news. I wasn't listening in or anything."

And this was why David could not talk about things. Thank heavens he kept his words vague just now. He could only hope Emmy wasn't reading too much into them. "What is it? Have John and Irina returned?"

"Yes, my lord. I've asked them to meet you in Pagus's office if that's all right."

"That is fine. Rush, come with me."

Please, let the news be good.

 

By showing up unannounced, David was causing no small amounts of confusion to the staff of Celapaleis Castle. It was interesting, in a bittersweet way, to observe that Qubine was so much the head as well as the backbone of the castle, such that every small thing could cause a major panic as soon as he was unwell.

Eventually someone located the chief of staff, who had accompanied him during his sudden visit just two days ago, and she took over.

"Lord David. Master Sykes. Good morrow to you both," she said, arriving to the waiting room with a young yamaan at her heels.

"Our apologies for the sudden early visit, Lameia. You're well?"

"As—" She began, then as if she suddenly remembered something, turned to the boy by her side. "Well? Then attend to him. Do exactly as he says, no more and no less."

"Yes ma'am!"

The boy rushed off, and Lameia's attention returned to the visitors, shaking her head. "As you can see, no one knows how to do anything here; they are all running around like headless imps. Ah, to think I am their chief. The shame!"

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Rush stepped forward and gave the old woman a gentle clap on her shoulder before David could respond with any words of comfort. "People look up to you and want your approval, that's all!"

"I— well, aren't you a sweet boy." She began to smile. "Anyway, you are here for Lord Qubine. He has just awoken and is going to bathe. Would you be so kind as to wait? We can provide a meal if you have not yet broken your fast."

Did that mean... "He is able to stand?" David asked, and Lameia nodded.

"Thanks to Lady Irina's efforts yesterday. Although, he is still very weak, and not yet out of danger according to the physicians. But you can guess how my lord would not listen to that."

Yes, David could just imagine. "We'd be happy to wait."

It was some tea, cold meats, freshly-baked rolls and over a good half hour later that David was told Lord Qubine was ready for his guest. The wait was welcomed. Upon hearing that Qubine's life might be safe, and learning that he was now even able to stand, David could have been reduced into an unsightly sobbing mess if he was allowed to see Qubine right away.

Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but he was glad to have some time to calm down, even if he had to tolerate the incessant grin that Rush couldn't quite hide.

"Rush..."

"Sorry. I know. He's still sick and I shouldn't be laughing but you've no idea how you look right now." Rush picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth, and stood. "Anyway, I'm heading into town. I'll meet you back here later?"

There were no words that could express the depth of gratitude David felt for Rush.

Qubine was standing, waiting to meet him when David was shown to the suite.

So much for calming himself down. David felt the back of his eyes burn even before the door shut behind him.

"Sorry to make you wait, I was simply repugnant after weeks of just towel baths... you look dreadful." Qubine frowned.

"Nothing a good night of sleep cannot fix. Whereas you... that is enough. I see that you can stand. Now please go back to bed." David said, his voice soft. Qubine was standing up, but it seemed no easy feat. He was using an orbed staff, not as a simple cane to aid balance but as a crutch, judging by how heavily he was leaning onto it. His complexion had brightened compared with how he looked last time they met but by no means did he seem healthy.

As if to annoy him, Qubine stood for a little longer, just enough to make David threaten to pick him up and put him in bed, before returning to his bed. Just as before, David pulled over a chair and sat down beside him, helping him adjust the pillows so that they propped him up.

"So how did you manage to slip out of your castle before daybreak to visit your previous sovereign?"

"There was no 'slipping'. I told my staff I was heading out with Rush and met no objections."

That caused a raised eyebrow. "Interesting."

"They seem happier with me going off if Rush comes along," David said, referring to his generals. "Rush has long proved himself worthy of trust, but I wonder if they are starting to think of him as my lucky mascot."

Qubine snorted. "You value their opinion, I know."

David paused, hearing the unspoken words: but they obey you, not you them. Which was true, but this wasn't about the chain of command and right this moment he didn't want to explain it to someone who for years had ruled with little support. He just wanted them both to relax and enjoy each other's company as much as they could.

"Never mind that. How do you feel?"

The simple question brought about a pause, long and heavy enough to let doubt and worry creep into David's heart. Last night at Pagus's office, Irina told him that she felt traces of the Umbermarici — remnants of a Remnant — still within Qubine, but she managed to lift the imprint, the taint, whatever it should be called, using Marion's Blessing, so that his very life force would stop being drained away. But was that not enough to save him?

"David, your face is like an opened book right now."

"Should I apologise for that?" David let out a bitter laugh.

"It is not meant to be an accusation," Qubine said, looking straight ahead of him, his gaze diffused, "but merely a poor choice of words. I meant to express my appreciation for your honesty."

"And I honestly cannot tell if that is some kind of skillful backtracking."

Qubine laughed softly. "It... still hurts. The pain remains."

This could not be. "But Irina said—"

"She worked a miracle on me." Qubine was looking away again, "I suppose I did bind the Umbermarici too young. Perhaps that was why the separation was not clean like most others."

David gritted his teeth and said nothing. He had raised the same question last night, and Irina had a different explanation: Qubine had accepted the Umbermarici totally, that at some point in his life he had stopped resisting the Remnant's power. In comparison, even though he had claimed to have accepted the fate using the Gae Bolg guaranteed, David apparently still kept it at arm's length, still fought against its power. David also had not used his Remnant enough for it to affect his life too deeply.

"David."

"Yes?"

"It still hurts, but I am not dying."

"Your words would convince me better if you would look at me when you say them."

"The fact that I am not dying is not good enough for you?"

"That isn't what I said." Damn it. Why were they even talking like this? They should be rejoicing. "But you are still in pain and when you won't even look at me I worry that you might be hiding something."

That actually made Qubine snort. "You are either being silly, or you do not really know me."

It sounded like an accusation, but if David had learned anything from their relationship so far, it was to slow down, stop being defensive, and really try to understand. It should not be that hard, he had been told he was good at listening, he simply needed to do the same again without letting his emotions get ahead of him.

And when he did stop to think, it was so obvious. Qubine's biggest strength was his ability to convince, to manipulate opinion. If he meant to hide or to lie, that would be easy. To admit that things were not well, to honestly display weakness — that was far harder, it went against everything Qubine had learned to do to protect Celapaleis and himself. But Qubine was trying. For him.

"You're right, I was being silly." Gosh, it was truly a miracle that Qubine tolerated him this far. What was it again? _Unobservant, unimaginative, and wholly unprepared._ "So, you're not dying, hmm?"

"It appears not."

And for that, they had to be thankful. David just had to hold himself together right now, since Qubine probably wouldn't want to know how affected he really was.

But then David very carefully touched Qubine's hand and realised Qubine was trembling right before his eyes.

"Where is the pain?" David whispered, getting ready to use a healing art.

Qubine shook his head.

"Please. It's not a weakness." Maybe it was everywhere again. David would just try healing generally.

"No. It is still tolerable. And I only feel weak from lying in bed all this time." Qubine drew a deep breath, his gaze falling onto the hand covering his own. "I am just..."

The voice trailed off. David waited, but Qubine didn't continue.

Tipping his head back into the pillows, Qubine closed his eyes.

"I am sorry that I kept this from you before."

"I understand."

"I was afraid of upsetting you..."

"Now who's being silly?"

"...Or finding out that you did not care."

David was not expecting that, and didn't know how to respond. "Do you think me heartless?"

"Of course not. But before the war I said some terrible things to you."

It bothered Qubine even now, when there were far more important things to worry about? "It's already forgotten. In fact, it was I who reacted badly. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am for what I'd said."

"No, David. I pretended to know things I cannot even begin to understand. Then I decided on what you must want, and horribly insulted you."

"That wasn't what happened." David barely stopped himself from squeezing Qubine's hand. That would only hurt him. "Can we agree that we had a misunderstanding, and better communication is what we need?"

Very slowly, Qubine drew his hand back and put it on his lap. He opened his eyes, and they were red.

"There is something I need to say."

"What is it?"

Listen carefully this time, David. Listen, and understand.

"Our relationship... it cannot continue."

 

A couple of years ago, Torgal would have vehemently disagreed with letting David travel like this. Had he relaxed, or had David grown, or if it was Rush's influence, it was not easy to pinpoint the reason, but to be able to travel with just his best friend by his side was simply liberating for David.

They had chosen to walk to Celapaleis this morning, since David wasn't able to sleep, and they were now walking back after the Celapaleian coach took them as far as the Nest of Eagles, where David expressed the wish to walk again. Rush was peering down the gorge. The clifftop was wide enough for a few people to walk on, and relatively fiend-free, but had they used a coach or brought more soldiers they would have had to use the valley below.

"Can't see much from up here, but it sounds quiet."

David tried to listen. "You are right." It was still too early to draw conclusions, but some said that the departure of some Remnants had caused the monsters to calm down. It was true that in the weeks since the Valeria Heart's return, Athlum had a small amount of problems with monsters and he also heard that Celapaleis had been totally peaceful. Still, it was a thing that only time would tell.

So much of the world had changed. But the effects of the Remnants are not only on the world around them.

"It's gonna be quite late by the time we get back."

"We will use a transporter once we're past this area."

"I don't mind. Just thought you might want to get home and get some sleep soon."

David shook his head. "How was town?"

"Hmm? Oh, I know people from the tavern so they lent me a room upstairs to take a nap in, then I met up with some friends."

"You truly have friends everywhere."

"So do you."

"It's not quite the same." It was just as usual, Rush never realising how special he really was. "So, about today... Qubine does seem better than before. He thinks his life is not in danger now."

As expected, Rush heaved a great sigh of relief. He was the one who sent the Umbermarici away, after all. If Qubine died as a result of that, David was certain Rush would carry guilt for the rest of his life even though he only did what he must.

"And that matter you asked me about last night..."

A grin broke on Rush's face. "Yeah?"

How David wished it was pitch dark right now so that Rush could not see the heat creeping up his face. "The relationship between Qubine and me is not strictly professional; we have been... dating for a while."

Wandering closer, Rush bumped hard David on the shoulder. "See, that wasn't so hard!"

"Had it been anyone else, I would have told you sooner. But this has created many political and... personal situations. I just wasn't ready to talk about it."

He still wasn't, really.

Rush went a step ahead and spun on his heels, walking backwards so that he could face his friend. "I can kind of imagine the political stuff, but the other one... is it because of his size?"

David just nodded.

"Dave, do you guys..."

It was obvious what Rush was trying to ask. "No. We do not. I couldn't make myself interested even if I tried," David said. But suddenly he wondered — Rush said before that he wouldn't judge. But where was the limit? "But what if we were intimate?"

"Well, I kinda thought about this already." Rush scratched the back of his neck. "He's a grownup, as in he knows what he's doing and won't let himself be taken advantage of. He knows how to say no. Hell, if he doesn't wanna I'm sure you'd be downed by a hex art before you even knew it. And when I look at it that way... to be honest the mental images do freak me out so it's hard to just go 'consenting adults doing stuff, it's none of my business' but that's still what I'd say and I'd punch anyone who says otherwise."

That was more open-minded than David would have expected, even from Rush. And likely more open-minded than David himself would have been if he was the outsider looking at such a relationship.

"No punching. Violence never achieves understanding."

"I know! It's just a figure of speech."

David inclined his head. "And please, no mental images."

"Not anymore, thank god." Footsteps slowed, coming to a stop, forcing David to stop as well. "Dave?"

"Hmm?"

"So what's wrong? You still look like death warmed over." Rush tipped his head to one side, mimicking David's body language. "It's the politics, isn't it. Are people giving you shit?"

A light breeze brushed past David, bringing his fringe into his eyes. With one hand he pushed the hair away, and then he covered his eyes with his palm.

_"Our relationship... it cannot continue."_

"What would you do if there was something that made you happy, but it would also hurt you?"

"Well, I've been told to never do drugs." Footsteps. Rush came closer. "Dave, are you okay?"

_"I have no method to express or handle the happiness being with you brings me. And even as you adjust your stride to walk with me, I am reminded of all the things I can never be. It makes me yearn for them, makes me... grieve for the man I will never grow into."_

"When I said..." David drew a shaking breath. "When I said that Qubine and I have been dating... I mean we have been, until today."

Silence. And then Rush swore. Arms folded around David, a warm body pressed against him.

_"I have survived all these years by pretending to have accepted my condition. That cannot be allowed to change — I will lose my mind."_

"How unfair," _unfair_. What a childish word, "is it to not even be allowed love. How absurd is it that the very thing that is supposed to nurture, that brings happiness... that the very emotion of happiness can destroy you."

Rush held his friend tight. "I don't know, but I'm listening."

"He's been robbed of the right to grow old, to experience life as it should be. He's even given up the right to have his own name. But he's no longer bound to that Remnant! Why is life still forcing him to sacrifice every single thing that he has? Why is there not anything that I can do to for him?"

_"The only way I can carry on is to go back to living the lie. Thank you for the past few months, David, you have given me more than I ever dreamt of having. But this is where it needs to end. I am sorry."_


	8. Chapter 8

Qubine opened his eyes.

He was alone.

He was not expecting otherwise. This was what he asked for. But intertwined with the sense of relief was a desperate loneliness, the knowledge that he could no longer enjoy David's company as a lover.

Or perhaps they had never been lovers. What were the requirements necessary for such a word to be used, was it that two people had to be in love, or did the word refer to the act of lovemaking?

It didn't matter. Neither option was relevant to his life anymore.

_"It's too hard for me to accept this without thinking that the pain you are in could be influencing your decisions. I... can we... take a break? When your health returns we can... visit this again."_

_"It is not going to change," Qubine had said, not quite sure himself if he was referring to his decision or his state of ill health. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was everything. That was always the curse of his life, the lack of change. "If it looks like I have been stringing you along, especially over the past few days, I am sorry. With the war... I thought this conversation would be unnecessary."_

_His gaze lowering, David did not respond, perhaps questioning at what point their courtship started becoming a source of suffering for Qubine, or still thinking that Qubine was only saying this because of the relentless pain that was assaulting him._

_And David wasn't wrong. The pain did have something to do with it. Before, Qubine had planned to tell David of the problem, so that he was prepared that things might turn sour, or maybe they could even work something out, find a compromise. It was not Qubine's intention to suddenly ask to end the relationship like this. But now, with this pain that he instinctively knew was never going to leave, that bound him to this room, to hoards of healers and assistants, he had to make a decision._

_But he hadn't thought it would be this hard. Despite repeated assurances, he still couldn't be quite convinced that he was loved by a man like David Nassau._

_"David. It's not you. it's me."_

_That drew a quiet, dry laugh, one that sounded too much like heartbreak. And the pain it brought was nothing like that which ravaged Qubine's body, as if a heavy object had landed on his chest, pinning him down, slowly crushing him._

_"Do you remember the first day, I told you that the last thing I wanted was to cause you distress. So if... if it is really what you need, then I... accept what you're saying."_

It was over. They were over.

That crushing feeling was still there. So this was what people called a heartache. But he couldn't lie here all day thinking about this. He should get up and wash while he could still tolerate moving. Then some kind of healing, and then he must make a speech to the people. Celapaleis was about to lose control of Athlum, after all, his people would need some reassurance. And it had been too long since the war and his last public appearance. Nobody in the castle mentioned anything to him but he knew that rumours of his death must be abound by now.

In the mirror above the wash basin, a face stared back at him, cheeks hollow, eyes somewhat red-rimmed. He would need a generous supply of hartshorn and some rejuvenating arts before he would look presentable enough.

When he was finally ready, Qubine spoke to his people. About the conclusions of the war. About the Umbermarici. About Celapaleis's relations with Athlum. About Celapaleis's future. He made sure he said plenty, as a brief appearance would only reinforce suggestions that he was ailing or had something to hide. Clever use of clothing and accessories, as well as speaking from a balcony at the castle, made inapparent the changes in his appearance. Or at least he hoped so.

Hand gripping tight on an orbed staff which he was using as a crutch, Qubine brought himself to sit down at a table. Food was being laid out for him, the smells making his stomach grumble in response. It had been such a long time since he last wanted to eat.

He began eating, gesturing for Lameia to sit and join him; he hated dining alone and he had done too much of that recently.

"I think I feel better," he told Lameia, who drew a gasp of delight at the news.

The meat was already cut into bite-sized pieces to save Qubine the stress of using a knife. He liked this level of thoughtfulness; perhaps he was too harsh on his judgment of the staff before. The tea had the distinct tang of herbs, one which he had grown to both love and hate, but even that did not dampen his appetite. If it wasn't for the pain, which was quickly building up after exhausting himself with the speech, he might have dared to hope that he was on the mend from whatever that was still trying to break him.

He had to accept the fact that the pain was chronic. It was here to stay. But one day he would get used to it, he thought.

"Do you feel any different, my lord?"

"No." Not physically. "Just better. But I cannot quantify it. I will rest after this, but if there is anything that requires my attention, bring them to me."

"Will Lord David not be visiting today then?"

"From now on he will only visit when there are state-related matters to discuss."

Lameia's jaw dropped. She clearly had questions to follow, but she swallowed them, then dabbed her mouth with a napkin and hopped off her chair. Pushing the tea trolley, she had left the room before Qubine realised the desserts which were waiting for them must have been ginger puddings which David so loved, and she was going to get them changed.

Despite the obvious complications, the people who had served him all these years had accepted David. Yet he himself could not.

It was after the table was cleared that Lameia got that look in her eyes, which Qubine pointedly ignored; he very rarely discussed personal issues even with her, and he absolutely did not wish to talk about David. He returned to his rooms, declared himself not to be disturbed unless it was an issue related to the land, and finally he was alone.

Finally.

He went to the long mirror at the corner of the room and studied himself.

Staring back at him was the same face he had had for over a decade. Significantly sharper with the weightloss, yes — there were cheekbones he had never noticed before — but still the same face. Yet something was different. It felt like something had changed, and he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

The person in the mirror wasn't him. A twin, at best, someone with the same face, but not him.

He began to tremble.

But what was one more thing to lose? He lacked so many things to begin with: a normal life. His own name. Someone who loved him. And now, apparently, his health and his identity.

But he still had one thing. He had a heart. He knew this because it was alive with pain right now, so much that he could no longer feel the pain in the rest of his body. The edges of his vision began to blacken, as if whatever that was squeezing his chest and causing him to gasp for air was also distorting everything around him.

Goddammit.

_"And what of love?"_

_"Love? I am quite capable of that, you might be surprised to hear."_

He still had a heart. He was still capable of loving. He loved his people, even though serving them meant being a Remnant's prisoner. He loved David still, even if he could not accept being loved. And David was trying to teach him to love some things about himself which he could not change, even.

As long as this heart could still beat, he would carry on. He would endeavour.

He must... endeavour...

 

Qubine opened his eyes.

He was anything but alone.

He couldn't see, not for the first few moments, but he could sense other people's presence, hear their hushed voices conversing frantically. Then his vision returned, and although everything looked dark, he still saw that the ceiling above him was not the the usual one above his bed. Good, he had never liked having too many people in his personal rooms.

It took what felt like a lifetime before he could do anything at all, opening his mouth to speak but only making a pathetic, wheezing kind of noise, the burn in his throat so strong it closed up all of a sudden and he could hardly breathe. Admist the panic caused by the sensation of being choked, he didn't notice anyone coming near, but a hand slid behind his neck, lifting his head, and a glass was pressed against his parched lips.

Water had never tasted so sweet before. He drank greedily, recalling somewhere in the back of his head a tale of a man in a desert drowning to death after drinking too fast when given a full skin of water, but there was no need for that worry here, for the glass was empty much sooner than he would have liked.

"...ry... lord... ia..."

His senses were returning, one by one. The person who was almost cradling him was a female qsiti, a face he thought he should know, but she was lowering him back onto the pillows and moving away before he could remember her name, his mind still somewhat hazy. But a second glass of water helped lift that fog.

"Lameia," he tried to say. It sounded like his vocal chords had been rubbed against a whetstone, and it felt that way too.

"My boy," Lameia all but screamed, her eyes moist with tears. "I mean— Lord Qubine, you're awake, finally..."

Qubine took a moment to put the information together. It appeared that he had passed out, and for long enough to warrant dramatic reactions. He felt weak all over, and the pain was no less intense than before, but he sat up anyway, with Lameia frantically puffing up and rearranging pillows so that he could lean back comfortably.

There were healers silently working away in the background. Someone came and dabbed Qubine's face with a cool, damp towel while Lameia and Agipur, the kind old yama who was castle's physician, stood on the other side of the bed to talk to him.

"What could this be... a poisoning?"

"I've tasted everything the kitchens have made for you, so that shouldn't be the case..." Lameia took off her hat and gripped at its rim, fingers rubbing nervously. "We've sent word to the Academy and made sure all the transporters are running. Doctor Sykes should be here very soon."

"What is going on?"

"I— I'm afraid I don't know, my lord. But your heart... Lord Qubine?"

It was beginning to hurt too much to concentrate. This soul-shredding pain was just like how it was at the start, before Irina worked her magic. There must be traces of the Umbermarici still left in him, or maybe even that the Remnant had returned.

He bit down on his lip to contain a scream. He had just taken some healing herbs. There were people pouring mystic art onto him right this moment. And yet...

_This is nothing. Nothing at all. You are just a wimp, a coward. What are you going to do, lie in bed for the rest of your life? Stop acting like a sick child and start acting like a lord. Stand up._

"My lord, what are you— you mustn't do that!"

As soon as Qubine put weight on his feet, he realised it was a terrible idea. There was no strength in his legs at all, as if they were made of cotton rather than flesh and bones, and he felt himself falling, _crumpling_ even before the dizzy spell could take hold properly.

"Lord Qubine!"

 

Qubine opened his eyes.

He was back in his own room. Carried back here, no doubt, after his unsightly collapse earlier. For how long had passed since then, and for how long had he blacked out before that?

"...will know for sure in a few days. I'll stay here with him. You go and get the Tracker Remnant."

"But we've already checked him over with Marion's Blessing and the tablet! This can't be—"

"A researcher must be thorough. It's also for everyone's peace of mind."

"Fine..."

"Also, give this note to Rush, I need him to buy me these things. Bring them along with the Tracker Remnant."

"What are these even for?"

"Don't ask questions. Get to it, Lord Qubine's condition is very serious. Be back by morning."

Qubine waited until he heard the door closed before clearing his throat. He saw only John Sykes and a healer in the room, and was surprised by that until he spotted Lameia taking a nap on the sofa. The first thing John did was give him some water, just like Lameia did before.

"Doctor Sykes. My gratitude, and apologies for asking you to come all this way again..."

"It's no trouble."

"My state... gave your daughter too much of a fright?"

A dry laugh. "She's a sensitive girl who gets desperate when she can't make everything better right away, that's all."

That meant yes, then. Straining a little, Qubine saw the time on the clock to be near midnight — no wonder it was so quiet. People needed their rest, he couldn't blame them.

"So this is not the Umbermarici's doing?"

"Yes and no." John nudged his glasses absently. "But there hasn't been enough time to study all the cases since the war and yours is very different from the others so all I have are... vague theories. We need to observe you for longer to find out."

Longer. "And how much longer do you think I have?"

Even if there wasn't a third person in the room healing him as they conversed, Qubine wasn't expecting an answer, and indeed he did not get one. "I'm a doctor of Remnant studies, not of health," said John, adjusting his glasses again, his hand not quite hiding his comforting smile. "Then again... you might not be feeling too spritely right now, but I've seen boys like you bounce right back in no time."

Interesting word choice. Luckily, John's demeanor made Qubine laugh instead of become quite angry. The stream of mystic art aimed at him stuttered, the silent healer's face growing rather pink after hearing such disrespectful words, but that only made Qubine laugh harder.

"I know I don't look it, but I am twenty-four years old," said Qubine, and he had to pause to do a calculation, just to check.

"Still very much a boy in my book." John stood, looking around. "Now, you should eat something. The kitchen left you some food... where did they put it... ah, there we go."

The mention of food made Qubine suddenly hungry. He forced himself to sit up, but didn't try to get out of bed like he did last time. "For how long did I pass out?"

"I was told that you made a speech yesterday at around noon." John brought the food over and set up a little table across Qubine's lap. "Then they found you collapsed on the floor. You woke up this evening, but then fainted again very soon. That was just before I arrived."

That didn't sound as bad as Qubine had feared. "From everyone's reactions... I thought I'd lost more time than that."

John glanced back at the qsiti gently snoring on the sofa. "Everyone panicked, and now they're worn out. Your chief of staff sent them to rest, then I told her to take a break for a few hours. God, she made me swear to hell and back that I'd look after you right before she'd have a kip!"

"That sounds like her. Doctor Sykes, if you know what might be causing this..." Damn this, why was it so tiring just to speak? "then you must know how to prevent these fainting spells?"

It wasn't John's job to serve Qubine, but he seemed happy to do it, placing a tray full of breads and cheeses and meats and chutneys and preserves on the table. Qubine felt more awake and alive just from the sight.

"Well, the thing is, from what Madam Lameia told me, you didn't really pass out the first time."

"Then what... happened?"

"Your heart stopped, young duke. You died."


	9. Chapter 9

"Are you certain we shouldn't get a healer or a physician?"

"Look, he's just tired. Let him sleep. With the Independence and the war... he's been really stressed. I dreamvined his drink last night, so if you're gonna get mad then get mad at me, not him."

"Oh, I'm just surprised because it is very rare that Lord David decides to sleep in. But if he isn't actually unwell then... why don't you look after him, Rush?"

"Hmm? Sure."

"Let him know there's nothing in particular that needs his attention today; all that's going on is erecting banners and whatnot in preparation for the celebrations."

The conversation ended with the soft pattering of leather sandals, followed by the gentle creak of the door to David's solar. Rush peered inside and opened his mouth in surprise upon seeing David.

"Yes, I'm up," David said before Rush could state the obvious. He only got out of bed a few minutes ago, just in time to hear the conversation outside. "Could you please go and tell Pagus it's business as usual? I'll only be a little bit late."

Rush closed the door behind him first, and then gave David a look of great disapproval. "I think you should take a break, man."

"As the lord of this land, I cannot just shrug off my duties because of personal problems."

"But Pagus said there isn't anything you need to do today."

"There are always matters to take care of. If not then I will help pick bunting colours..." David said, his voice fading as a thought came to him. "Actually, there is something I ought to do."

 

There was once, many years ago, when David made bunting with his mother. He was around six years old, and about to gain a cousin. He still remembered that day well. The thin rope was bleached white, and miles long, or so it felt like. The paper came in all sorts of colours. His mother suggested that they could cut any shape, not just triangles, and David replied that he acknowledged what she said, but triangles would produce the least wastage and the simple shape would be easy to glue, thus maximising their efficiency. After all, they had so much to do before the baby arrived and could not afford to dally.

Hearing that, his mother had laughed and laughed, pointing out that perhaps David was spending a little too much time with Torgal.

"Hey, is it okay if I..."

"Of course. Come in."

In earlier times, up until Hesse XII, the lords and ladies of Athlum were interred in the catacombs beneath a temple that worshipped Lady Marion, which sounded terrifying but the chambers were well-kept, unlike the ones under the Temple of Elysion. After Hesse XIII's rebellion and the introduction of the Nassaus, the graveyard approach was favoured, and several generations of David's family were buried at this private location, on the same hill Athlum Castle was built on. One day David should rest here too.

Rush, who had been trying to maintain some idle chit-chat to keep David's mind occupied, quieted down and followed David through the gates. Led to the headstones of the previous lord and lady of Athlum, Rush said a brief greeting, paid his respects and then stood back a polite distance away.

This visit was long overdue. Although, to be honest, David no longer believed in life after death, so coming here was solely due to sentimental reasons and not because he thought his parents would be upset that their son hadn't visited for some time.

But now that he was here, it felt strange to remain utterly silent.

"Father, Mamá," slowly David crouched down, then went down on one knee, sitting back on the heel, "in a few days' time Athlum will become fully independent. It will coincide with your birthday, Father. I hope you don't mind sharing the special date.

"Much has happened since my last visit. Emmy is growing into her role. We won the war. The Gae Bolg no longer exists. I fell in love."

He wondered, if his parents were alive, how they would have reacted to the fact that he courted the lord of Celapaleis.

He couldn't tell how long he stayed there for, but his knees felt stiff when he stood again. He gave them a quick pat, flicking off dirt and loose blades of grass, then went to bow at other headstones. Grandparents, great grandparents, aunts and uncles, and a few of their children, most of whom David had never met but had heard enough about to respect.

The gate was closed once more and they were back on the wooded path that connected the graveyard to the castle.

"Oh yeah, I've heard that your mum was from where Gabriel's from, but didn't realise you speak the lingo."

"Lingo?" The sudden remark took David by surprise, then he realised he must have used his mother's home tongue earlier. "Ah, yes I do, a little."

"Can you teach me a few words?"

"Of course."

The day passed this way, Rush never leaving David's side, providing distraction whenever David began to sink too deeply into his own thoughts. To pass the time, Rush had several rather odd phrases he wanted to learn to say.

"Almost. _Id non lo que tu madré dixo._ " David repeated for the third time. " _Madré._ There is a slight rise in tone at the end of the word."

Rush tried again, mimicking the pronunciation with no small amount of uncertainty.

"That sounds about right, though I don't think I can really judge either way," said David. "My command of it is quite rusty. And since I stopped learning after my mother passed, I still sound like a child when I speak it." But he still used it whenever he saw that side of the family. They lovingly made fun of his accent every time, and he would not have it any other way.

"That's still pretty impressive though. And I'm sure it's good enough to surprise Gabriel with if I reply with that next time he says the sort of crap he likes to say."

Thinking about the exact type of "crap" Rush was referring to, having heard it at the front line on occasions when Gabriel joined Athlum's battles, David snorted lightly and said nothing, keeping his smile when Rush launched into a story about the one time Gabriel dragged him to the pub "to teach him how to approach the fairer sex" when in reality Gabriel just didn't want to go alone. And David tried to appreciate Rush's effort, but his thoughts still drifted, inevitably drawn back to Qubine, and the events yesterday.

David thought about the times Qubine stiffened when he was touched. The rare occasions when Qubine initiated contact, often in situations when David was not paying attention. He had thought it was to do with expectations, although it had already been spelt out that there were none.

He had no idea. He hadn't known that Qubine had been suffering as a direct result of their relationship, that experiencing what should have been the joys of life also meant being reminded of all the things he could never have, he could never be. Was David unobservant, or was it true what Qubine said before, that words were always required for understanding?

But he didn't think, even if Qubine explained, he would be able to fully comprehend the depth of that dysphoria.

Irina said that the reason why there were traces of the Umbermarici left within Qubine was because he had accepted the Remnant. Perhaps that was not out of choice, just as his words yesterday were not out of choice, but of necessity.

"Dave?"

Feeling a nudge in his side, David's attention returned to the friend beside him, finding dark eyes peering at him with concern. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"I know. Doesn't matter." Rush looked around them. They were at David's mother's garden, sitting on the stone edge of one of the flower beds, and it didn't seem like there was anyone nearby. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... don't know." Arms resting on his thighs, David laced his fingers together, looking forward but focusing on nothing. "I am fine. I've unloaded at my parents." Well, he mentioned it anyway. But this way, Rush wouldn't feel like it was his duty as a friend to listen. "And it didn't even look like they were turning in their graves."

"Hahaha... were they strict with you?"

"With some things. Matters relating to Athlum were definitely always serious. I had essentially been fraternising with the enemy."

"But Celapaleis isn't the enemy anymore, right? There's no reason for them to get mad at you," said Rush, turning towards his friend. "By the way, you're allowed to be angry if you want, you know. If you want to go and hit a few things we can go to Blackdale or somewhere?"

Bless Rush for trying. "I am angry, but only at my own powerlessness. I don't think killing giant spiders is going to improve things."

"Man, seriously, you don't always have to be so noble about stuff." Rush breathed out long and deeply. "I... don't know the details obviously but, Dave, sometimes you have to be kinder to yourself."

What an odd thing to say. "And what does that entail?"

"Accept that sometimes it's not your fault. I mean, come on, if there was a problem, he should've said something sooner. To suddenly—"

David interrupted at this point. "He thought he wouldn't have to."

"Huh?"

"The war, and then the illness. He believed his death was certain."

A pause. Then Rush simply said, "oh."

"I guess I should be glad, in a way, because this means he honestly thinks he will live." David reached into his pocket, pulling out a letter that was handed to him earlier in the day. "One of my watchers in Celapaleis sent this by carrier bird — it's a transcript of a speech Qubine made in the late morning. It was a long speech. This has to mean that his condition is at least under control."

Rush took the letter. "Kind of a silver lining?"

"It's something to take comfort in, yes." David watched his friend squint at the letter; it was too dark for reading now. "At one point, he asked his people to extend a hand of friendship towards an independent Athlum."

"Damn." The piece of paper was refolded and handed back. "I think I'm a bit in love with him too."

It was a smooth game Rush played, changing tactic when he realised that villainising Qubine wasn't an effective way to make David feel better.

"You said he was a bit cagey, once."

"Nah, I said he was a big cutie!"

Never in a million years would David have expected a response like that, and he was giggling like a child before he realised, the acute sense of grief that had embedded in his heart since yesterday mixing with genuine amusement and love, becoming something he couldn't name or make sense of.

"He is anything but big."

Pulling back dramatically, Rush drew a long, hard breath through his mouth as if he had just heard the most scandalous statement ever in his life. "I know he ain't your boss anymore but you really pull no punches!"

Giggles bubbled over into laughter, then died down, awkwardly, before David's voice had a chance to crack. He would not weep here. Not because it was a sign of weakness or because it might bother Rush, but simply because there were some things he preferred doing alone, undisturbed. Like reading a book. Trimming his toenails. And crying.

"I think I'd like to go to bed," he said, slowly standing up. "Thank you for today, Ru..."

Someone was coming, the light, brisk footsteps drawing David's attention before he finished his sentence. Rush stood too, identifying the pattern of the steps easily.

"Irina?"

It was another moment before Rush's sister turned the corner and came into view. She was followed by one of the castle's night staff, who David nodded at and dismissed as she hurried over to her brother. Her long hair was down, and she was wearing a coat over her usual skirt, shirt and shrug ensemble.

"Rush!"

His sister's sudden appearance gave Rush cause for alarm. Not to mention the fact that she was looking quite upset. "Aren't you supposed to be at Elysion? Where's Mum and Dad?"

"Mum's at the Academy. Dad's at Celapaleis—" she held up a hand before Rush could interrupt. "We came back because Celapaleis sent us a message asking for help."

The words made David's blood turn cold. Rush stole a glance at him. "Why? What happened?"

She shook her head. "The message was really vague but... we got there a few hours ago and... they told us Lord Qubine collapsed after making a speech and... his heart stopped beating and..."

"What?" David grabbed hold of Irina by her shoulders. "That could not be!"

No. Not after all this. There must be some mistake. Qubine could not—

"They brought him back, and then he fainted, and... he was already really ill, really skinny, and when I saw him he was so pale I thought he was... gone." When Irina began to sob, David realised what he was doing and let go, and she turned to Rush. "Poor Lord Qubine, he's so tiny, I couldn't watch..."

Such a reaction, from someone who had been on battlefields and had watched the Conqueror kill Hermeien up close. Then again, they all liked Qubine to varying degrees.

Rush wrapped his arms around Irina and made comforting noises. "So Dad sent you away?"

"I guess." Irina nodded. "He also wants me to get the Tracker Remnant we left here, just in case there was something we missed."

"So how's Qubine now?"

"Dad says he has ideas on what to do, so I guess things are okay for now. He wants me to go back in the morning. He gave me a list of other things to bring as well."

"Right." Rush pulled back a little, and his hands landed on Irina's and David's shoulders. "Irina, give me the list, I'll get the stuff Dad wants. You get some sleep. Tomorrow morning we'll go to Celapaleis."

David didn't say anything. He couldn't trust himself to open his mouth without making nonsensical sounds of denial, without screaming. Just moments ago he was talking about how Qubine's condition must have improved, when in truth he had collapsed and _his heart had stopped beating_.

Instinctively, David walked away, taking a few steps to stand under the pergola and in the shadows so that his friends, especially Irina, could not see the impact her words had on him. He was the lord of the land, he must always maintain composure. And he was not going to make his way to Celapaleis right now no matter how much he wanted to.

"Dave? Are you—"

"I need to make some preparations. Let me know if you need any assistance with anything and... I'll see you in the morning?"

"Um, sure."

David nodded at the siblings, then strode away as resolutely as he could. It was fine. He knew how to keep a front even in the most dire, most painful situation when he had to, like when Emma was killed. And right now, because of Irina, he must not show any panic. It was a good thing that she was here, really, even if he couldn't look at her right now because her distress was getting to him. Badly.

"Dave," Rush called behind him. "Are you going to be okay?"

Perhaps not. "Yes."

"But—"

"Please, don't waste any time. Do whatever it is that John needs you to do to help Lord Qubine."

"Y...yeah, okay. Got it."

 

"Could you give this to him?"

Holding out the visistone, David's hand was trembling. He hoped it wasn't noticeable. Rush gave the object a brief glance.

"Dave."

"I have thought about it. It's not appropriate for me to see him right now."

"Don't be an idiot. He almost died! This isn't the time to worry about what's appropriate," said Rush, adding when David didn't respond, "come with us. The worst that can happen is he won't see you, but at least you won't regret that you haven't gone."

David watches as the visistone was taken from him, but put inside his own coat pocket. Then Rush grabbed him by the arm and tugged him along, towards the yard where a coach was waiting. He only put up the minimal amount of fight. He was too tired to, after staying up all night. And there was nothing he wanted more than to go and see Qubine right now, so Rush's words simply legitimised his travelling to Celapaleis.

As it turned out, Torgal was waiting by the coach, having been informed by Irina of what was happening. As a neighbouring lord and given their lands' current relationship, Torgal thought it was important for David to pay Celapaleis a visit and express Athlum's best wishes.

But was uttering meaningless words all that David could do?

The question circled his mind during the uneventful journey. What was he even doing, sitting in a coach speeding to Celapaleis? Doctor Sykes and Irina might be able to help Qubine, but not David. He had a visistone recording of the birdsong Qubine so loved, which he captured at the break of dawn today, but it was all he had to offer and he couldn't predict how it would be received; it — and David's presence — might only be a source of stress to Qubine.

David's mind became blank when Celapaleis's famous floating castle came into view after a journey that took eternity but also no time at all.

Having been expecting Irina's arrival, she was whisked away with the Tracker Remnant. Her companions, however, received the stiffest of greetings. David didn't blame them — for another lord to show up unannounced at a critical time like this, he doubted the staff knew what they should do. Politely, he asked for the chief of staff. In the past months he had struck a kind of friendship with Lameia, and he hoped she could advise him on what he should or should not do, for Qubine's sake.

He and Rush were shown into the same room they had sat in not two days ago, and offered refreshments. Around ten minutes later the door opened, but instead of Lameia it was Rush's father John who came in. Rather than his usual white coat, he was wearing a jacket made with tweed cloth, and whilst he didn't look upbeat, he did seem quite relaxed for someone trying to save a man's life.

"Lord David. Rush."

"Doctor Sykes. Good day."

"I heard you asked for Lameia." John smiled, going to the sideboard to help himself to some tea. "I don't think you'll be able to get her to leave Lord Qubine's side right now. Anyway, he's asleep so you'll have to leave the visiting for another time."

Ah.

Then David needn't worry about what he could say, or if indeed his visit would do more harm than good.

This was for the best. Even if David only realised at this moment how desperately he wanted to see Qubine.

"So how... what is the situation? I heard that his heart..."

"I should've guessed that Irina would tell you about it." John frowned a little. "His heart was overburdened."

"Overburdened?" David repeated. What was that supposed to mean? "But why?"

"I have some ideas, but I haven't had enough of a chance to talk to him about it yet, so I really shouldn't tell you anything for now." John took his tea with three heaped teaspoonfuls of sugar. "But I suspect the Tracker Remnant isn't going to return anything, and there is pretty much nothing I can do."

Rush stood. "But dad, you can't let him die!"

"Nobody is letting him die," said John. "If I'm right — and I'm pretty sure I am — then he needs physicians and healers, not Remnant researchers. It's going to be a tough fight for him."

It was infuriating to not be told what was happening, but John's words still brought some relief. It didn't seem like Qubine was in immediate danger again. John was close to a diagnosis, and it sounded like that there was a way to save Qubine. The news could have been so much worse.

"Then Rush, I guess we should go."

"Dave?"

"We make no constructive contribution by being here, and the staff has far more important things to worry about than keeping us entertained."

"But you haven't even seen him—"

"Come on."

When the Lord of Athlum announced his departure, the staff did look relieved. But David could not tell if it was because of Qubine's current health situation, or because they knew that his personal relationship with their lord had come to an end.

He turned down the offer to be shown out, opting for John Sykes's company instead.

"If it's not too much trouble," he said, taking out the visistone from his coat pocket, "could you please let him know that Athlum wishes him a speedy recovery, and give him this? It's nothing important, just something that will hopefully help him relax."

While John replied with a cheerful "of course" and took the visistone, Rush spoke up.

"Dad? What's with that shopping list? Asking people where to get a waterpipe in the middle of the night got me so many dodgy looks!"

"Haha, sorry about that." John adjusted his glasses. "That's for the duke. Right now he can't take too much restorative herbs because there's a substance in cureleaf that builds up and poisons you if you take too much in a short time, right? But with a—"

He could not be suggesting that... "You're getting Lord Qubine to _smoke_ the herbs?" Rush asked before David could, incredulous.

"The water traps all the harmful bits, so he can take as much as he needs... don't give me that look, son. It's not illegal! Smoking restoleaf is illegal and will make you see things, but cureleaf is fine. It relaxes you and it's a bit like getting drunk, but there are no permanent side effects."

As David's eyes widened, Rush narrowed his. "I think this is genius, but do I even want to know how you know this?"

John looked away. "Part of my youth might have been somewhat misspent."

"Oh my god. I can't—"

"Don't tell your mother."

"You are so embarrassing." Rush covered his face with a hand, then stole a look at David through the gaps of his fingers. "Dave I'm sorry."

A soft snort escaped David before he could help himself. "Don't be. I think you are a wonderful family. I'm quite envious."

"Really? Then you can have this guy, I don't want him!"

John nearly sighed. "Lord David would make a far better son than you."

When they reached the yard, Rush went to locate the coach driver who was apparently dozing in a nearby garden, and John turned to David.

"After all that's happened... jokes aside, I do see you as family, in a way. I hope that's not a rude thing to say."

The words took David by surprise. "Of course not. The sentiment is very much appreciated. I... ah, that's not meant to sound so perfunctory; I'm afraid I'm just not very good at these things." John was a great man, and not because he was the head of the Academy. He had worked hard to improve the world they lived in. He and his wife had raised wonderful children who were courageous, generous and loyal. "I'm honoured, truly," David added, because that was indeed the truth.

It didn't look like John minded how clumsy David's response was. "I do worry about you too. When you look after Athlum, remember to look after yourself too, okay?"

"I will." David nodded, grateful. "About Rush, though... without him I don't think I would be standing here today. And it's not just because of the battles we've fought. He has supported me in so many ways and I am forever thankful."

"He's a good kid, I know." John cracked a smile.

To their left, David could see Rush returning with their driver. Perhaps this was a good time to broach a topic that had been on the back of his mind. "John, may I ask you something? What do you see in Rush's future?"

"What do I see? His future entirely up to him."

"I asked him the same question recently, and he said it would be up to you. Above all else, he wishes to be with his family."

"That sounds like my son alright."

"And I'll be honest: I desperately wish he would stay in Athlum. So if there is any way I can entice you, Marina and Irina to move to Athlum then please, let me know."

John paused to give this a thought, his eyes on Rush who was saying something and making the driver roar with laughter. "The way things are right now, I think it'll be at least a year or two before we can even think about settling down. You know that Balterossa is asking the Academy for help, right?"

David nodded. "Yes. They've also recruited engineering experts from Nagapur and Celapaleis."

"That's right. Marina and I will be running all over the place for quite some time; it's far too early worry about putting down roots again. After that, well, Athlum is lovely," said John with a smile, "I can see us living there. As long as Rush is happy, that's fine by us."

This was the first bit of genuine good news after the stress of the past few days, and David could not thank John enough.

"You have my utmost gratitude."

"You're a good boy, Lord David. Go home and chill out for a bit. It's only a couple of days until Independence, you should be patting yourself on the back for all the good work you've done."

"Ah... yes, thank you. I should do that."


	10. Chapter 10

"M-my lord! You mustn't—"

"Bathroom," Qubine said with a glare. He knew he shouldn't try to get out of bed — he had learned the hard way last time — and the young boy assigned to watch over him was merely doing what he was told, but this level of coddling was beginning to grate. "Fetch me my staff."

The object was promptly handed over. "Doctor Sykes said he must speak with you before you try to do anything..."

Ignoring the words, Qubine slowly made his way to the bathroom to do his business. He felt ridiculously weak and clumsy, no doubt the result of lying in bed for so long. On that note, what day was it? He hoped he hadn't lost yet another day to sleep or unconsciousness.

He went to the basin to wash his hands and face. Every movement hurt, but he could handle it, having just rested. It was always when he began to tire that his tolerance declined. He must summon his ministers now and get some work done before that happened again. Ministerial recess was drawing near, but there was much to take care of after the war. And knowing Ghor, a Congress session would be called soon...

Wait.

What...

_What is going on?_

He gasped, and taking a shaky step backwards he stumbled, catching a small table on which a few toiletries sat. As his back connected with a wall, the table toppled sideways with a loud crash, dropping bottles of soap and potion all over the floor.

He was staring straight ahead of him when someone knocked on the door hard, almost banging it.

"My lord? Are you all right?"

His gaze fixed on his own reflection in the mirror above the basin, Qubine could not speak. No, his eyes must be deceiving him.

How could this be?

He could remember thinking, on the day of his cardiac arrest, that there was something wrong with his own reflection, that he saw the same face, but felt that something was off, and it wasn't him at all.

But now the face in the mirror staring back at him was that of a stranger. After a decade and a half of being frozen in time, Qubine knew his own face. It was difficult to quantify the difference, but one thing was easily noticeable: his hair was a whole two inches longer than it used to be. Checking his hands, his nails had also lengthened.

Neither had grown during all the years he was bound to the Umbermarici.

"My lord! My lord! Please say something! Are you all right? May we come in?"

This wasn't him. He didn't know this person in the mirror. This... creature... was totally alien.

He screamed.

Was it not said that people's hair grew fast when they were dead? Was this what happened, his heart had stopped again? He was Celapaleis's ageless lord, but could it be that he was now also timeless, because he was not even allowed release from the pain — the peace of a true death?

Or was this the Umbermarici's doing, was he becoming a Remnant like the Conqueror? Was this how Remnants came to exist?

People burst through the door, shouting his name. He turned his head to look at them, raising a hand to point at the mirror, still too shocked to utter a single word. Were they seeing what he was seeing?

As people rushed to his side to support him in case he fell, he heard something he wasn't expecting to hear.

...Birdsong?

It was a calming, centring sound, one that reminded Qubine of times spent in David's company, of kinship and acceptance.

Searching for the source of the sound, he found John Sykes at the doorway, holding a visistone.

"Ha, this works!" he said, looking first at the visistone with amazement, and then at Qubine with a slight frown. "And this is why I said not to let you do anything before we've talked."

 

He was... growing.

_Growing._

John produced a pair of calipers from somewhere. "It's not just your hair. I've measured you in a few places. Over the past two days, your fingers have grown by an average of..." he moved the tool apart by a small but measurable amount, "this much. And the length of your feet by a little bit more than this. You've grown by a measurable amount in just two days."

It agreed with what he had observed at the Academy: people released from their Remnant bonds were beginning to return to their "original states". Whatever it was that they sacrificed for the bond was being restored to them.

In Qubine's case, this meant physical growth.

Qubine could only gape, speechless.

"Now, before we get too excited," John put the calipers away again, "the road ahead is not smooth. Your body is wanting to grow from its current size into what a twenty-something-year-old should look like, and it's trying to do it really fast, draining you of all your resources and putting stress on your heart."

Qubine made no response, but John carried on anyway.

"If you don't give your body what it needs to grow, you will die from malnutrition or your heart will just give up. This means you need to eat a lot — the amount you would've eaten over the years to become a fully-grown man. I suspect once you start putting in the fuel you'll feel a lot better. I've already told Lameia to make sure you eat."

At the round table sitting to Qubine's left, Lameia nodded.

John glanced at the chief physician. "Agipur and I agreed that the pain you are in is from your bones and everything else growing too rapidly. It's probably creating tiny tears and holes inside you. Food and healing will both help so that you don't grow up with hollow bones, weak organs or other problems. We have a... solution to the herbs situation," he coughed suspiciously, "someone will show you in a minute. And you also need rest."

"And some moderate exercise when you can handle it, but that won't be for a while," Agipur added. "My lord, since it's almost recess, I recommend that you take this break at the summer residence, away from the city, and refrain from... doing work."

The physician's hesitancy made Qubine chuckle, his brain only just starting to catch up with the words, the foreign ideas being presented to him right now. And he was being advised to stop working. What kind of madness was this?

This was too much. He couldn't think.

"Please, my lord. This is for the sake of your long-term health," pleaded the physician when he didn't get a reply.

"I will consider it. Agipur, Lameia, you have my thanks... I wish to speak with Doctor Sykes privately..."

There were looks exchanged, then his staff took their leave, gesturing for the healer to follow them. When the door shut, Qubine took a drink of the sweetened herb tea, gave himself a moment to feel its effects before speaking.

"I would appreciate an honest answer. Are you optimistic of my..." what word should he use? This had nothing to do with recovery, "...progress? Should I be prepared for the worst?"

Qubine had to know the truth before he could even contemplate getting his hopes up.

John also sipped his tea. "I'm most worried about your heart. You have to take it very easy, especially over the next few days since it's all just starting. Then you should be safe... but you should ask Agipur. Like I told you before, my speciality is in Remnants."

"Hmm." Qubine nodded. What John meant was "you're not yet out of danger."

"Once you get past that... my only worry is that you don't take in enough nutrients and end up with health problems or stunted growth."

"I see." Qubine wondered how far his stomach would be able to stretch. "I also want to know, about that visistone..."

"Oh yes," John handed the item over. "Lord David was here this morning when you were sleeping. He said to give this to you, and that Athlum wishes you a speedy recovery."

David.

Qubine let his thumb gently run over the relief of the visistone. It was the sort of thing David would do, to make and bring this over for him. "He found out about what happened?"

"I'm afraid Irina talked a little too much. Sorry about that."

"My condition can affect Celapaleis's stability... and needs to remain confidential... until such a time as I decide otherwise. Please make sure that she understands."

"Yes, absolutely."

"Then... thank you for your work. Please leave me so that I may... digest what you have said."

"Of course. Don't worry, you'll be fine as long as you take it easy and follow our advice. Be a good boy."

"Don't push it John."

 

It started off far too weak — Agipur was cautious about the amount that should be used. Eventually they got there, with enough cureleaf in the flask to possibly cause a temporary shortage in the city. Agipur was mortified; Qubine's state was even worse than he had thought.

Fortunately after the first day, the wounds inside Qubine were healed, and he needed a lesser amount of herbs in his waterpipe just to take care of the new ones created by his ongoing growth.

He had never felt so... wonderful in his life.

Things became instantly fascinating if he just paid attention to them — the way the water bubbled in the pipe, the swirl of white smoke inside the glass tube, the cuticles of his fingernails, the weave of his bedspread. Look at the work. Was it made by loom, the ones invented by someone in Elysion that were powered by water? Speaking of Elysion, Ghor should be holding Congress soon, now that he had mostly recovered. Qubine hoped that he would have visibly grown enough by then. He would relish the look on the old bat's face. He would do the same to David, too, visit before David found out about this development. David would be delighted, knowing that this could mean an easier life for Qubine. That was how David was, sometimes sincere to a fault. Shrewd when he had to be, but shrewdness never came to him naturally, like how Priam of Royotia had never been graceful on the dance floor despite knowing all the steps. Yes, David would be delighted, but not because it represented a chance of mending their romantic relationship. Qubine had been informed by the staff of a conversation between David and John Sykes. David had already moved on, and was seeking John's permission to have Rush by his side, and John told David that he was already part of the family. It was... not easy to handle the knowledge but Qubine's situation had no solution that anyone could see, so David had to seek his own happiness. And he chose well. Rush Sykes was a good person. But... although Qubine was the one to break things off, it still felt like an insult — there were only about two or three days between their breakup and David's conversation with John, were there not? Yet David discussed this so openly, under Qubine's roof. He had moved on quickly and was not worried about showing it. Actually, perhaps it was his intention to deliberately show this, and had things not so dramatically changed for Qubine, he would have been glad that David was apparently not so hurt by what had happened. Perhaps this was for the best. Perhaps, in time, Qubine would meet someone else but no, for now he did not want to think about it. He had to focus on survival. Healing this body. Maybe he would grow quite tall. His parents were on the tall side, so it was possible. This could be a dream, being told that he would be able to become an adult physically, except he had never even dreamt about it all these years. But he had also never noticed how intriguing boiling water could be. Was there any pattern to the way it bubbled...

The side effects of smoking healing herbs were... special.

Qubine was able to focus, it was only that his thoughts ran at hundreds of leagues a second. This would have alarmed him more had he not been in control of his faculties, but he was, and it only left him a little embarrassed, unable to ascertain if his face had betrayed any of his thoughts in front of everyone.

He decided to smoke the waterpipe only in private.

The smoking was followed by an endless amount of food. After chewing through so much meat that his jaw grew tired, he had soups, stews and steamed puddings and after all that, he slept, fully prepared to wake up and discover this was all a feverish dream, go mad as a result and possibly take his own life.

But that didn't happen, thank the gods.

Time passed in short cycles of healing, eating and rest, a schedule that was disorienting but worked miracles — by the third day, Qubine found himself able to walk unaided from his suite all the way to the back gardens of the castle before needing to sit down.

"Lord Qubine?"

"I am fine," he told Lameia, who had followed his every step. He still felt quite giddy from smoking the waterpipe a while ago, truth to be told, but he sure was not going to talk to anyone about that.

He reached inside his pocket, took out a visistone, and let it play the birdsong David had recorded for him.

He hoped David was well. Today began a full week of independence celebrations in Athlum, so David must be busy, and incredibly proud. Qubine was proud of him too, although he couldn't say he had any hand in David's achievements.

"My lord, you seem to be faring much better. How is the pain?"

"It is tolerable. I only feel like I've been knocked about a bit."

It was more like he had been knocked down and ran over by a two-horse coach whenever the effects of the cureleaf wore off, but this was already a huge improvement so he didn't want to discuss further.

"Do you feel ready for travel? Agipur recommended relocating to the summer residence, I think that isn't a bad idea."

A few months ago Qubine would have found the suggestion absurd, but since the war, his prime minister and the cabinet had proven themselves to be capable, so the thought of leaving Celapaleis in their hands was far more acceptable than before. Besides...

"There are fewer staircases over there." His legs really were not yet good enough to negotiate all the blasted stairs in this castle.

"Indeed!" said Lameia with mild disbelief. She was perhaps expecting resistance from Qubine. "Everything is already prepared, my lord can go as soon as he wants!"

The poor woman. She had been put through the wringer ever since the loss of the Umbermarici, Qubine wanted to make her life easier if he could.

"Then I will go now. Get the coach ready."

"Yes. Right away."

But just one thing.

"Also, I will pay Athlum a short visit before going to the summer house. Don't bother sending word, I intend for it to be a surprise."

Lameia paused, took a moment to study Qubine, who stared straight back at her. She swallowed her questions.

"Yes, my lord."

 

It wasn't very noticeable just after crossing the border, but the closer to centre of Athlum, the more intense the celebrations became. After the crossing the moat, Qubine's coach had to crawl through the crowds to reach the castle.

Eventually he got there, and after some initial confusion, he was led by Rush Sykes directly into the private room he and David had often used during the independence negotiations. He wondered what Rush truly made of his sudden appearance, but the young man seemed cheerful and friendly was always.

"Wait here. They've gone to get Dave already, I'm sure he'll be here in a minute."

Keeping his face hidden under the hood of the cloak he had chosen to wear today, Qubine nodded. "My thanks."

"No problem!"

It was indeed just moments after Rush left before Qubine heard someone running over. David all but burst through the door, which he quickly shut behind him.

"Qubine? Why are you here? Are you good enough to travel?"

It was good to see David again. Even though their romantic relationship had ended, their friendship still endured. It hurt, but the pain would hopefully fade with time.

"Peace, David. I just want to give you my congratulations," Qubine lowered his hood for the first time since his arrival, "as I ought to. One would not want to be seen as a bitter ex-sovereign. And I also need to thank you for your visistone. "

To that, David smiled a little. "But your health—"

His words stopped there. Mouth hanging slightly open, he walked closer, making it no secret that he was studying Qubine's appearance.

"Qubine..."

"Those colours suit you well. But of course they would. You are a good-looking man who even managed to wear the Celapaleis colours well," said Qubine, noting David's new attire based on the Nassau family colours. A long jacket of black, dark red and gold, black trousers and a white shirt with a small, upright collar. The outfit made David look much more grown up and Qubine had to stop himself from making a cocoon-to-butterfly analogy, but it was clear that David had also gone through some changes of his own.

"Thank you," David replied half-heartedly, his feet finally stopping within reach of Qubine. His voice dropped to a whisper. "What's going on?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You seem different."

It had only been days and the changes were minute, so Qubine had wondered if David would notice. He had his answer.

"I just changed my hair a little, that's all."

David shook his head. "Not just your hair..." he said, as if shocked. "I don't understand..."

Either David could not comprehend it, or he didn't dare to voice his thoughts. Fun as this was, Qubine decided he should spare David now. He was dying to break the news anyway.

"Do I seem taller?" he asked, and David nodded, confused. "Well, a funny thing, that. I appear to be growing."

David didn't say a word, but the way his face changed was amazing to watch — the apprehension, the genuine joy, the "this is a dream and I need to wake up". Not too different from Qubine's own reaction when he received the news, actually.

He gestured that they should sit down to talk, then explained what he knew about the changes that were happening to him. After he was done, he waited to see how David would respond, but David still remained silent.

"Well? You have nothing to say?"

"I am... stunned. There are so many things I want to know and..." David's voice softened. "You do realise this is the first time I've seen you since your heart stopped."

"Oh... that is true." It was also the first time they met since the end of their relationship, this Qubine did remember.

"Just the fact that you are alive and even feel well enough to travel is overwhelming enough. To learn that you're _growing_? I don't even know where to begin but... tell me, is your life in danger?"

Hmm. Qubine had thought David would be more excited about it, but of course David was a sensible man who knew what the real priorities were. And damn, that gentle tone. So much like how he spoke when he first asked Qubine out. Qubine really did not want to be reminded of that.

"There is no threat to my life so long as I am sensible with my activities. Everyday the physicians want me to walk a certain amount, sleep every so often, receive healing four times and ah, I should be eating every waking moment." Qubine sighed and got out the little jar of dried fruit Lameia had put inside his pocket. As if Athlum would refuse to provide food if he asked for some. "It is tedious, all of it, but I do as I have been advised since I am even less keen on the idea of death."

Satisfied with that answer, David's posture relaxed a little. "How about the pain?"

"Much improved since I started using the waterpipe." Qubine took out a piece of dried prune, then offered some to David, but he didn't want any. "Smoking cureleaf is a..." he tipped his head to one side, "unique experience. You should try it."

"Perhaps not." David was smiling now, enough that it reached his eyes. A rare thing. "So you would have to keep eating until you're twenty-four?"

Qubine waited until he had swallowed what he was eating. He couldn't stand talking with food in his mouth. "One would hope I could stop then. If I shoot past my actual age and keep growing I think will kill people," he said. "Wipe that amusement off your face. Maybe I will begin my killing spree with Rush Sykes."

David pulled back and laughed out loud. "What has he got to do with anything?"

"Well, I said I am not a bitter ex-sovereign, that does not mean I cannot be a spiteful ex-lover."

A stiff pause. "I beg your pardon?"

Apparently the tone didn't make it obvious enough. "I was joking. If he makes you happy, then I hold nothing against him."

Another pause. David's brows gathered. "But why are you even saying that?" he asked, sounding incredulous. "It's not as if... you think Rush and I are dating?"

"It is all right, David." It wasn't really, not when it was merely days since they broke up, but what good would saying that do? "I do not—"

His eyes fixed on Qubine, David shook his head in disbelief. "That is not all right at all. Rush and I are not together. You are making assumptions about me again."

Now Qubine was confused. "I have made no assumptions. The information was given to me as fact."

"Well it's not fact, because it's not true!"

"You spoke to John Sykes about your future with Rush. While you were in my castle, if I may add."

"What kind of nonsense... oh. Oh, no." Realisation clearly dawned. A hint of panic crossed David's features, and his face began to flush red. "That wasn't what I meant at all. I... Qubine, did you truly think I would seek another just days after our relationship ended? And under your roof too, while your life was in danger?"

Qubine could feel his own face heat up as well. "I did not know what to think. But I trust the people who gave me the information, and whether I liked it or not I still had to accept it."

Accept what he did not have the power to change. It was a skill Qubine had perfected over the years.

Another shake of the head. "If that's what you believed, then you have been too gracious."

"It is not just what I believed. My whole castle believes it. And dare I say this castle as well."

The shock and worry on David's face was as if he had just been told the Conqueror had come back to life. "This is terrible," he muttered under his breath, then got out of his chair and headed for the door. "Give me a moment."

Qubine used the time to drink a vial of potion he had brought with him. Just minutes later, David returned with Rush in tow.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Qubine just told me that everyone thinks you and I are an item."

"Wait, what? Seriously?"

It was like watching a comedy drama unfold, and Qubine was enjoying this even though it was somewhat at his own expense. Remaining seated, chewing on dried fruit, he just let the two friends continue their conversation.

"I suspect that is why no one said anything every time you accompanied me to Celapaleis."

"You're kidding. People think we were going on dates?" Rush smacked a hand on his own cheek. "Is that why Emmy keeps glaring at me every time I try to chat up the girls at the pub? Shit!"

Qubine could not help himself at this point. "Dear oh dear. Is your relationship with David ruining your other romantic prospects?"

Rush actually had the audacity to glare daggers at him. "Not funny Qoobs."

"Oh it is, I assure you."

"Even if I liked guys — and I don't — I wouldn't want to be this guy's rebound!" A finger pointed decidedly at David. "He was heartbroken when you dumped him. He's still miserable. And that was only last week! Why are you even laughing?"

Right. Perhaps it truly wasn't that funny.

"Rush, that is enough," David stepped in. "You both mean well. But we ought to focus on how to correct that misconception."

Rush huffed, but he did get off Qubine's case. "Well this is obviously your fault, so you should sort it out."

David actually grimaced. "I am certainly not going to go to your parents and say, 'when you told me you saw me as family, I hope you didn't mean son-in-law'!"

"Oh my god, do even my family..."

"Yes, possibly."

"Right. I'm going to go away and, I dunno, scream for a bit. I mean, no offense Dave, but just no."

"You say that, but I am starting to feel a little offended."

"Anyway. I'm gonna go and panic. You have to leave for that thing at the temple soon, don't forget. And Qoobs," Rush turned to Qubine. "Sorry about what I said. I know things aren't easy."

Qubine didn't know how to respond to such a heartfelt apology that came out of nowhere. "Oh. It is fine."

"I hope you're feeling better."

"I am being looked after."

It wasn't quite an answer and it looked like Rush knew it, but also knew better than to ask further. He took off, leaving Qubine alone with David again.

David sat back down. "This is mortifying."

"If it is any consolation, I told Lameia that I left you. If she is good at her gossip then at least my staff do not think you left me for another."

"Even so."

"I was misinformed. My apologies."

"It isn't your fault."

David wasn't with Rush, then.

What if —

Qubine didn't even know how to ask.

"I do need to head to the temple soon for a short Independence ceremony," said David, "and receive the priestess's blessing. You are welcome to join me — it would make sense for you to be there too."

Yes, Qubine would prefer to discuss a less personal matter. "How soon?" he asked, checking his wrist watch.

"In about an hour."

"I can join you, but I need to rest first." Qubine stood, feeling quite shaky. The potion was doing its job but he also needed to let his body rest. "I will return to the coach. Wake me when it's time to leave."

"If you don't mind," David also left his seat, "you can rest here. It would be more comfortable. Athlum is not so petty that she would make her previous sovereign sleep in a coach."

"I do not mean that. I just don't wish to impose."

"It's not imposing at all. Stay here, I will send someone to tell your staff."

Silence. Qubine tried not to shuffle. He was usually so much more composed than this, but there was something about David's gaze that was telling him he needed to wait for something, and after hearing what Rush said, he almost dared to hope—

"After the temple, will you be returning to Celapaleis immediately?"

"Yes. But I will be staying at the summer house instead."

"I see. That's close to our border. Would it... be all right if I visited?"

"Of course." David was thinking what he was thinking, right? Say it, Qubine. Ask him. "David, a few days ago I had not a clue that this 'growing' business would happen."

"I didn't think so. It overburdened your heart," said David with obvious pain in his eyes.

"Indeed. But now that I am still alive, and apparently growing bigger... and I have just learned that your heart is not with Rush. There is something I do not dare to ask, but wish to know."

"Of course I still love you."

"Ah."

Qubine could feel his ears immediately heating up. It was the way David said it, that easy honesty, he didn't even need to stop to think about it first.

"But I do fear that, as your body matures, you may discover you have no leanings towards men."

Qubine hadn't considered that at all, and he could only admit it. "I had not considered that scenario. This would not be fair to you at all, I should not have suggested anything."

"I think I still want to take my chances," David smiled with a hint of hope. "But do you, now that I've made you aware of that possibility? Or would you want to wait until you do know yourself better?"

Really? A man like David Nassau, who could probably have anyone he desired, was willing to risk heartbreak again?

"You fool..."

A snort. "I was hoping you'd phrase it a bit more kindly. Something like 'brave', perhaps?"

"I can call you a brave fool if you want." Qubine smirked. "Waiting is a sensible suggestion, but what's the fun in that?"

David was a fool for willing to try again. And Qubine would be a fool to let this go again.

Dear god. This much excitement was bad for his heart, which he could feel beating wildly. He almost wanted to move forward and embrace David, but like that night in Athlum Castle, they remained out of each other's space. And that was all right. The world was no longer at war. Qubine was growing up. There was time to work things out, and a future to look forward to.

"You know, I could grow up to only like fish, and we would both be distraught."

"I am the one who likes fish, remember?"

"I remember that you like this particular minnow. But I am not going to be a minnow forever, it turns out."

"How unfortunate."

"Anyway. You are the fish now. Be ready for the day I catch you."

All right, that was bad, and David was right to laugh into his knuckles. "Before that, I believe you are about to take a nap. Little boys need naps."

Well, well, wasn't someone being cheeky. Actually Qubine couldn't recall David having ever made fun of his size before. But now that this state was no longer permanent, he certainly welcomed the jokes.

"Yes yes, so that I will grow big and strong. I hope you are aware that it is likely I will grow taller than you."

David tipped his head, smiled, and said with the same easy honesty as before, an expression Qubine knew was reserved for his closest and dearest,

"I look forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rush: I'm not into Dave!
> 
> Rush: *as he storms out of the room* Dates before mates! Chicks before dicks!
> 
> Rush: *slams door*
> 
> Rush: *opens door, sticks head in briefly* BOOBS BEFORE QOOBS!


End file.
